A Faustian Bargain
by Your Favorite Worst Dream
Summary: AU. Edward sells his soul to the devil for seven wishes. Full summary in my profile and rated T just in case.
1. Temptation

**Explanations and the summary are in two rather lengthy paragraphs on my profile.**

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Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own **_**Twilight**_**, but, perhaps, I could make a certain deal for its ownership…**

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Temptation

"No, Alice," Edward sighed into his cell phone, "I'm _positive_ I haven't been associating with…" he surreptitiously looked about him to see if anyone was there, but thankfully the halls of the hospital were empty, and hissed, "…werewolves."

"This makes no sense, Edward," she chirped back, her voice rising in her distress. That didn't really surprise Edward, though; she was so often obsessing about things that hadn't even happened yet that he had grown the habit of blocking her out. "I can't see you!"

"That, my dear sister, would be because _you_ are in Seattle and _I_ am in Forks. No matter how well our eyesight is, being nearly one hundred miles away could make that little task rather difficult." Edward checked his watch and suppressed a groan; he simply didn't have the time to calm her down. Since Dr. Snow was on vacation with his family, and Dr. Wilson was faking sick so he could spend time with his mistress, he was stuck with piles of paper work.

"This is serious, you twit!" she snapped. "This could mean bad things!"

"Perhaps I just don't have any decisions to make now; it is, after all, Forks, _land of the boringly consistent_." He turned the corner quickly and dove into his office when he heard an intern coming down the hallway, locking the door for good measure. Edward supposed that he would have no other choice than to listen to what Alice said, and by the way she was starting, he knew that this was a discussion he couldn't risk anyone overhearing.

"No," continued Alice, "even in the most mundane situations I _know_ the choices people make. If I concentrate, I can see that Rosalie will probably buy a red dress for a charity benefit here and that Esme is considering whether to take either a pottery class or learn how to paint stained glass from a book. Emmett's going to bribe a fledgling Japanese company for a not-yet-released TV, Carlisle's going to surprise Esme with a romantic anniversary, and Jazz is going to teach a history class at a nearby college, but _you_, for you I see nothing. _Nothing!_ How can that be?" Edward knew he should be as anxious as her, but he was the only other person than Alice who knew how many visions she had had that didn't amount to anything whatsoever; maybe this lack of foresight was just a fluke, and it would all be normal later on.

"I'm sure everything's fine, Alice." He could practically feel her worry coming through the speaker of the phone, so he added, "I _promise _that I will tell you if I run into trouble." He pinched the bridge of his nose and changed the subject, "How are things with the family? Did you get the book I sent you? _Gateway to the Psychic Mind_? I thought it would be particularly amusing to you since it describes how every 'psychic' is actually a nutcase running around and prophesizing things that, inevitably, have a one in one billion chance of actually happening."

He smiled in relief as she went on to the new subject, bantering happily with him and bickering as if they were actually brother and sister. "Well, I say that describes me to a T, don't you think so?" She laughed to herself and said, "Maybe I _was_ a loony in my human life."

"And, no doubt, it was only intensified by you becoming a vampire."

"_Ha, ha_," she shot back sarcastically before her mood was immediately sobered. "As for how our family is, well, we _miss_ you Edward."

Guilt wormed its way into Edward's heart. Truthfully, he really missed them too; it seemed wrong to separate himself from them after all the years they had spent together. "I couldn't miraculously start working in a hospital after just graduating high school though. I had to go somewhere else, where they wouldn't recognize me, and Forks is small enough that a 'wonder kid and prodigy of a doctor' wouldn't make that big of a splash." He made his way to his desk and looked at his name plate, which sent a rush of pride through his body. For once, Doctor Cullen was _him,_ not his adopted father.

"Besides, I can't continue this for much longer. I'm already trying to pass as a twenty-one year old and you know I can't go past twenty-four, at the _most_. I just… feel that I'm doing some kind of good here; like I'm making a positive difference that I never have before. I'll be home soon enough, but for now, I-" He was in his chair, which he had swiveled around to the face his large picture window that had the unfortunate view of the parking lot below him. It was nearly empty, but he could see a large red truck boisterously pulling into one of the spaces.

A grin automatically graced his beautiful face, showing his straight and blindingly white teeth, as he watched the brunette figure jump out of the truck and head for the entrance of the hospital. "Look, Alice," he said distractedly, "I've got to get back to work, but before I go, remember that I'm _fine _here. _Nothing_ is wrong. Tell the family I said hello, and I'll see you next weekend for that hunting trip. Goodbye." He hung up and got out of his room, twitching with the bottom of his shirt in a way that would have been nervous if it were someone other than him.

By the time he got down to the lobby, the girl who had been driving the truck was talking to Mrs. Shaw, the nurse who managed the front desk. Mrs. Shaw was handing her a standard form to fill out, and Edward hung back, peaking over the corner, making sure if he could handle the situation. He could smell no blood, which was always a good sign coming from _her_, and by the way she held her left wrist delicately away from everything else made him assume that it was only a sprain. This was very good news on Edward's part, and his grin widened.

When she finished, Mrs. Shaw checked her computer and made a _tut_ing sound. "It seems," she said to the girl, "that Dr. Snow is on vacation. Dr. Cullen has treated you here several times, I see, so I'll just call him down and-"

"Hello, Miss Swan," Edward greeted as he decided to make his appearance. At the nurse's questioning thought of _How does he always know when he is needed, _he added, "I saw your car and thought that I ought to get ready for another Swan Catastrophe."

Bella blushed and followed the doctor as he led her to the normal examination room, trying to keep her eyes on parts of the good-looking doctor that were appropriate. She sat on the crinkling paper and Dr. Cullen held her wrist gently in his cold hands. It seemed that low skin temperatures were unavoidable when it came to doctors. "What happened this time?" he asked with amusement clearly in his voice.

"Well," she couldn't find herself able to make coherent speech for a moment; his topaz eyes were focused right on hers and she couldn't help but notice how he smiled crookedly at her inevitable clumsiness, "I was going to go to school, but on my way down the stairs, I _tripped_ and _fell_, and well, you can picture the rest." She held out her wrist to the doctor and displayed the swelling that had occurred. "I think it might be broken."

Edward prodded it and made a show of examining it before he told her what he had already deduced while she was in the lobby. "Good luck for you Miss Swan; it is only sprained. A rather minor sprain, in fact." He walked over to the cabinet in the corner and took out a length of bandages. "All we have to do is wrap your wrist to immobilize the sprain and provide support, and, when you get home, rest it, apply ice to it, and elevate it." Once he was finished with the bandage, he took hold of her good hand and helped her down from the table, letting his touch linger for a bit before letting go. Both tried to ignore the electricity-like feeling that ran through their veins when they touched in this sweet and rather affectionate way, not the all business one they were so used to while he was tending to her bumps and bruises.

"What should I do about school?" Bella asked, just looking for an excuse to continue looking at him.

"Don't worry about that, Miss Swan," he smiled and her heart felt like it were about to melt. "I'll call the school once you are gone so that they will know about your accident. I just want you to go home and rest." Finding that they both had nothing left to say to each other except goodbyes, they did just that and walked back in different directions, she to the parking lot, he to the front desk to complete the call he had promised, both feeling vaguely disappointed by the departure.

It was obvious to everyone but themselves that they were in love with each other.

Edward returned to the examination room to clean up, rolling the extra bandage and setting it aside, putting away any misplaced tools and objects. He moved as if he were in a trance, which was a good enough way to describe how he felt when Bella Swan was on his mind. _She really is something_, he thought with a smile.

A polite cough interrupted his thoughts and Edward turned, much more quickly than one would think humanly possible, to see a man sitting in one of the chairs, relaxed and seemingly at home in the starch white examination room, his eyes closed and a blissful expression gracing his features.

Taken aback, Edward put on his doctor face once more and smiled. "I'm sorry; I hadn't seen you come in. Could I help you with anything?"

The man opened his eyes and Edward was shocked to see they were crimson. "Depends," he said slowly, dragging out the syllables in a voice that seemed permanently set in good humor. "It depends if you will let _me_ help _you_."

Edward let his act drop and closed the door to the hospital, letting no eyes see the strange meeting of these men. "I don't know who you are, but if you wish to speak to me, I'd prefer if we'd do this in my own home, not where so many people are in jeopardy."

The man chuckled and stayed in his seat. "Calm down Dr. Cullen, these people have no reason to fear me more than what they already do on a regular basis. Now, if you would so kindly listen to me; I have a…proposition of sorts." He waited for Edward to lose his death grip on the door knob, which actually molded the cold metal into what the inside of his clenched hand looked like, and sit across from him in the other chair before he continued speaking. "If you could have anything in the world, what would it be? Perhaps that charming Bella girl, hmm?"

Edward shot out of his seat, sending it clattering to the floor, and stared at the man with murder in his eyes. "Don't you _dare_ think of harming her-" And that's when he realized something was wrong; he couldn't hear this man's mind. Finding another like Bella was more than he had bargained for and he was in no proper state of mind to handle it. "What the Hell…?"

The man's smile widened as he said, "What the Hell, indeed. You see Edward, I'm the devil." The fact that he said this with a straight face made Edward rather impressed.

Edward smiled at what he believed was a joke and picked up his fallen chair, pulling it across from the man and sitting down. "Excuse the surprise you may feel," he announced sarcastically, "but I'm afraid that I _just don't_ believe you."

"Would you like me to _prove_ it to you, Dr. Cullen?" he asked with the up most politeness, never wavering in his serene mood.

"Oh, yes very much," Edward challenged, leaning forward and wondering where this man had escaped from.

"I remember the days when people would take the other's word seriously," the man huffed. "Fine, I'll show you I speak the truth." He slouched down in the chair further, tapping his fingers on the wooden arms and looking up at the ceiling as if he were bored. "Dr. Edward Anthony Mason Cullen, you are not who you say you are," he began in an ominous voice of faux solemnity. "You claim to be twenty-one, but in fact are seventeen, and have been that way for quite some time. Ninety years to be precise. Not to mention your little…_secret_. Need I continue?" He quirked an eyebrow and smiled like a movie star.

Edward wasn't really impressed. If he couldn't read this man's mind, then he must assume that he is a very powerful, if very eccentric, vampire, probably able to get information like that without so much as blinking. "Tell me then, O Prince of Darkness, are you a vampire as well?"

"Of course not!" He gave a shudder and inspected his appearance in the mirror; smoothing back his dark hair and adjusting the suit he was wearing. "I only appear this way because this is how you think the devil ought to look; a cold and unforgiving killer of people with the gall to try and make himself seem like a normal, functioning human. As you once did, I believe," he eyed Edward through the mirror with a pitying look, but waved his hand dismissively. "Usually I'm stuck as a red, behooved creature with a pitchfork, so this is rather refreshing. Tell me, though, why do you resent your kind so much? Is it merely self hatred, or something more?"

Somehow Edward couldn't help but answer this strange man; the probing red eyes and the feeling that he _already_ knew everything drove him to sincerity. "I believe that we are demons."

"A common misconception," he shook his head as if he correcting a misunderstanding child with that smile still on his face, sitting once more across from him. "For, I can assure you, you are none of _mine_. You vampires, I swear, you either think you are monsters or gods. There are only a few, a _very_ few, who look beyond the self serving deeds that you wish to accomplish and actually _do good_. Your adopted father, Carlisle, is an excellent example. _He_ will continue on to do great and honorable things, including revolutionize medicine, surrounded by the ones he loves. You, though… _your_ future is less certain. You believe yourself to be a beast, Godless, ruined, but when will you learn that you are essentially human?"

Edward shook his head and spoke earnestly, "But we _are_ lost in the eyes of God; forever damned to walk the earth cold and alone with only the searing heat of Hell to look forward to."

"Do you love God so as to believe that you are unworthy of His good graces?" inquired the man, and, if even for a second, Edward found himself believing this stranger and his outrageous announcement. He had been raised to believe wholeheartedly in the church, and had heard of the devil's beguiling ways. Edward realized he would have to keep a wary eye for any unjust temptation if this was indeed the devil.

"Not love, no. I fear Him…and His judgment." And there it was; the assumption that had been trailing his mind ever since he was changed. This was the reason he had doubted Carlisle so vehemently, trust that should be there between man and creator had only turned to dread.

The man stared at him with his all-knowing red eyes, completely aware that this was the first time Edward had ever said this aloud, and completely unsurprised because he had, somehow, known this before Edward could even put the feeling into words. He sat up, stretching his arms, and stated, "Let's not talk of politics anymore, Edward. We have business to attend to," before walking out the door.

Edward chased after his quick pace until he was by his side and corrected, "You mean religion, not politics."

The man glanced at Edward with another one of those looks, like he was mentor with the heavy task of teaching a slow pupil. "It may be religion to _you_, but to me, it is merely everyday politics." He led his way through the halls of the hospital as if he had worked there for years, never wavering or hesitating in his path until they arrived at Edward's office, where he let himself in without a second thought and sat in Edward's plush leather chair.

Edward sat down in the small, unassuming chair, unused to being on this side of the desk. "I've been thinking," he started. "How can you block my power? Are you-?"

"Am I like her?" he guessed. At Edward's nod, he shook his head with a smile and said, "No, of course not. She was born like that; I just do it to piss you off."

Edward ignored the last part and continued thinking with a look of frustration on his face. "Then with Alice; did you block her as well?"

The man's smile grew larger in his shamelessness. "Well, I couldn't have her spoiling the surprise now, could I?"

Edward appraised the man more thoroughly; noticing how he didn't act like any other vampire he had ever met. He wasn't in the slightest jumpy when there was a bank of human blood several rooms down and a few patients with open wounds. He didn't move like a vampire, with fast hand gestures and quick speech. As Sherlock Holmes had said, "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." And though this was highly improbable, Edward found himself believing it more and more.

Which is why he asked this simple question, "What should I call you? I do think that Lucifer would be a tad too noticeable." Both realized it was a clear sign of Edward surrendering; this was his final truce to the battle against accepting what the man said was true. He was giving into the temptation, no matter how much his mind said not to.

The man looked down at himself, to his elegantly cut suit, to the Italian shoes, to the dark, slicked back hair, to the normal face of no consequence. He thought for a moment before his grin returned with full force. "I think that this man looks like a James, don't you?" He got out of the chair and turned to the window, which hadn't been the least reflective before and now it showed him as clearly as a mirror. "Yes," he said, scrutinizing his features, "James will be my name to you now."

He returned to his seat and put on a business like expression. "Let's get down to business." The man now known as James pulled open the top drawer to Edward's desk and took out a large piece of paper Edward had never remembered seeing in there before. "I could give you seven wishes of _any_ kind, Edward, all for the small price of your soul."

"M-my _soul_?" This came as an unexpected surprise to Edward. He had, for the past ninety years been living, or existing, with the concept that he had no soul.

"Yes," he gave that Grammy-winning smirk. "And, since you don't quite believe you have one," Edward started in his seat at the blatant observation on his thoughts (for perhaps he could read them, or didn't need to read them if he knew everything already), "I'm sure you wouldn't mind giving it away for such a generous and helpful exchange."

The wheels were turning in Edward's head as he thought of the possibilities of _anything_ with a certain brunette in his mind. His hand automatically reached across the table and retrieved the paper, reading the contract through quickly. "You," he said slowly, "can give me what ever I wish for, no matter how ludicrous?" Mainly Bella, his own forbidden fruit.

James nodded.

Edward's heart lifted at the potential that entailed; a life he had never fully been able to have. Everything but the contract, the pen in his hand, and the devil himself was blocked from his mind; especially his cell phone, which lay ringing in his pocket, the name Alice flashing on the screen over and over and over.

Edward, blinded by the thought of having his angel, opened Pandora's box as he let the pen scratch across the paper, giving the devil his soul. When he was done, he took an unneeded breath, stared James in his too-red eyes, and said:

"I wish I were human."

The devil snapped his fingers, and everything around Edward started to fade before he was left in the blackness of nothing.

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**Okay, a few points to clear up: I made up the book Edward gave Alice, Alice doesn't know that she was, in fact, a loony because Bella didn't have that whole thing with James and get the tape, and all my information on hospitals and religion is scarily scant. I get everything medical from re-runs of _Scrubs _and personal experience, and everything religious from movies and Wikipedia, so please don't be insulted if I screw things up. **

**I hoped you like it and will tell me what you think.**


	2. A Breath of Life

**Tell me what you think...**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own **_**Twilight**_**, but, perhaps, I could make a certain deal for its ownership…**

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A Breath of Life

There was buzzing.

For the past minute or so, this blaring, headache-creating screech had been going on and off and on and off. Each time it went for the latter, he felt himself sigh in relief, ready to plunge back into the welcoming darkness, but then it'd return again, seemingly as loud as before.

He, so very reluctantly, opened his eyes, and was greeted by large glowing red numbers, framed by a little bit of black plastic. His hand reached up and swatted its top, making the relentless buzzing cease. But the pleasant darkness had now escaped him, and Edward forced his eyes open more fully.

Light arrested his senses, and everything was caught in a shimmering cloud of vagueness before his eyes finally adjusted; taking in a view he had not entirely expect. It was a somewhat large bedroom with plain walls covered with either shelves or posters; on the shelves there were books and countless CDs, on the poster were names of obscure bands or even obscurer paintings. A distant part of his mind, a part that seemed to try and sprint to the forefront of his thought, was noticing holes in his seemingly perfect collection. _Where is my jazz section? Where did my bootleg recordings of Costello go? How could I have lost all my early British punk?_

Then, right when the distant thoughts became not so distant, he realized, as sure as the now-beating heart in his chest and the air in his functioning lungs, that he was human.

_Human._

He found a laugh, a beautiful, mirthful sound it was, escape his lips and he collapsed back down on his bed, just listening to the quiet that accompanied his powerless ears. While he was thinking over the loss of knowing what was on everyone else's mind, he discovered the roaring contradiction that took place in his own.

As if on one side of a raging river, there was a simple human life. Everything there felt like it was given to him secondhand, and he felt coldly detached from it, like it were a movie, not his life. He could remember his parents, Edward Sr. and Elizabeth and his thirteenth birthday party and how he just moved from Chicago to rainy Forks where he will have his first day in the local high school. He could remember feeling and details, fights and fond memories, but it had no real impact on the other part, only a strange curiosity.

On the other side was his whole vampire life, as pristinely preserved in his mind as anything else. There was the truth that the human side was lacking; he could see Carlisle and Esme, his parents in so many ways, the moving around, and his final desperate attempt to make up for his past sins by becoming a doctor.

Before he could figure this out any longer, there was a quick knock on his door, then a slightly frantic woman stepped into his room, holding a piece of toast in one hand and throwing a bunch of clothes at him with the other. "Hurry, honey," she ordered in the sweet way only mothers can. "You'll be late for school if you don't get out of here soon. And think what a poor impression that would make, being late for your first day in a new school!"

Edward felt himself become divided as the alien, human part of him took the toast from her hand, starting chewing it down hurriedly, and thanking her on instinct, and the real (or is it _really_ real, maybe just a dream) self was shocked at seeing this woman that was so much like the mother he had lost so long ago, in 1918. Already he could see, through her fluttering hand movements and inability to enter a room without cleaning something, that she was just like his own, and that, maybe, was because she _was_.

When she left, Edward stopped trying to separate his mind and dressed in the clothes his mother had given him; a dark, hunter green sweater and a pair of plain jeans. He caught a look of himself in a mirror on the wall and stopped for a few moments, stepping closer to see if it truly was him. The person sure _looked _like him, perhaps a little less pale, a little less extraordinary, but still remarkably handsome by human standards, all angular features, messy auburn hair and large green eyes. The laugh once more came to his lips as he ran a hand through his hair and grabbed his car keys off his dresser.

His mom gave him a hug goodbye, telling him to have a good day and to make lots of friends while handing him a book bag, and he was out the door, pulling on a black rain coat in the perpetual drizzle and making his way to his car, which, thankfully, was a silver Volvo. Searching through the new mass of human memories, Edward saw that his father was a successful lawyer, able to buy nice and expensive things for his loving wife and only son. He also saw that he and his father had been in a fight recently; Edward Sr. had wanted his son to become a lawyer like himself, to join his firm, but no, he wanted to be a concert pianist. Edward, unsettled by these unexpected insecurities and pressures, pushed them aside to deal with it later.

He had better things to look forward to; like Bella.

Edward got in his car and turned the ignition excitedly, enjoying the blast of guitars and the clash of drums that greeted him as he sped away to school. At least one thing was for certain; this human version of him sure had a good taste in music.

000

Tracing his finger along the lines on the map Ms. Cope had given him, Edward struggled his way through the twists and turns of the high school's hallways. No one seemed that interested in helping him either; staring and pointing were apparently the accepted greeting to new students here.

After ten hopeless minutes of continued searching, he finally asked the first teacher looking person he saw, who only gave a gruff reply and a vague point to the right. Edward sighed and headed off in that direction, not able to find his homeroom until six minutes after the late bell had rang.

The moment he stepped into the classroom, every eye turned toward him, ranging from curious to lustful to territorial. Edward had moved around many times in his long life, but it seemed that the human side of him had not, and, for the first time since God knows when, he blushed. He was shocked to feel the foreign heat rush to his face and he stood in place for a moment, not even registering the fact that the teacher was talking to him.

"Can I help you?" she repeated to his dazed expression.

Edward snapped out of it and his blush deepened. "Oh, uh…" Now he was stuttering; he wasn't entirely sure if his human self knew how to get a grip and stop attracting more attention. "Hi, my name is Edward C- uh, Mason, and I'm a new student."

The teacher smiled and looked through a stack of papers on her desk. "From Chicago, am I correct?"

Edward had a brief second of thinking how many other new students this miniscule school was expecting, but held his tongue. "Yes, Chicago."

She nodded and pointed to a chair that seemed as though it were in the middle of the class; an easy view for all the wondering eyes following his every move. She went back to explaining a math problem Edward had mastered years ago and, already as bored as he was in every other school, he rested his head in his hand and studied the people around him.

He was once again struck by the oddity of his lost mind-reading ability. Before he would have been able to peg a person's personality in a second, but now they were complete mysteries to him. He could still know something of what they were thinking through their unconscious action, their words or looks, but not being positive was entirely new to Edward, and, he hated to admit it, somewhat disconcerting. He was at a disadvantage here; he couldn't find ways to avoid suspicion and charm his way out of situations that could lead to-

To what? In a sudden jolt of thought, he finally grasped that he no longer _had_ a secret to protect, a family to watch out for. He was human, and that meant that there was nothing to hold him back from making contact with other people, to, how odd it may seem, _make friends_. The idea of any companions outside of his family was dizzying to Edward, but maybe, just maybe, it was possible. Could he really open himself up? Be free with nothing to hide?

The bell stirred Edward out of his musings and he stood up to make his way out of the classroom, his nose once again in his map. In his distraction, he almost ran into one of the other kids in the class; a boy of medium height with spiked hair and blue eyes that was smiling eagerly at Edward. "Hi," he greeted enthusiastically and Edward could already place him as a tag-along, golden retriever type. "You're Ed, right?"

"Edward, actually," he corrected rather shortly, but then remembered that he ought to make friends, because that's what normal teenagers do. "Hey," he said in a nicer tone, a smile now on his face, "do you know where Jefferson's class is? This place seems like a maze."

"Sure, I'll show you the way; I have that class next too. My name's Mike, by the way. Mike Newton." He then led Edward out the door, chattering on about how he had once lived in California and knew what it felt like to be the new kid. In other circumstances, Edward would have found this kid appalling, but he was so proud of the concept that he was making a friend, he didn't mind at all. He even paid attention at some points.

Now, with his new guide, who shared a frightening number of classes with him, Edward had a good handle on the people and places of this school. Mike had guided him toward gym, and said that he had it later in the day, so he'd see him next period at lunch, where he'd save him a seat.

When he entered the gym, Coach Clapp had thrown him a uniform and told him to get changed and that he wouldn't treat him like anyone else just because he was new. Sighing, Edward found his way to the locker room, for the first time rather nervous. The glares that met him there were _definitely_ territorial. There were no helpful kids here to help him through his new schedule; now there were only boys who saw a fit, good-looking guy who could knock them off their high pedestals of social order.

This is where being an anti-social vampire could help him. Edward stood up straighter, making his impressive height all the more noticeable and placed a look of careful indifference on his face. He made his way to the far side of the locker room and changed quickly, happy to see that his muscles had at least stopped the threatening looks with ones of timidness.

After a game of baseball, where, although he was picked last, he helped his team trounce their opponents, he was happy to see some grudging respect on the faces of the boys. He even got into a discussion of joining the school team, something that he would have _never_ done for attention's sake, but was now considering.

He walked to lunch with a new bounce in his step, feeling like this was good, that he could live like this. Then it all came crashing down when he entered to cafeteria.

He had automatically looked around the large room for a table in the corner where his family would be, waiting for him to join them and share a laugh or two about the student's reactions to them, begging Edward to tell them the thoughts of certain kids. But they weren't there. Edward felt his heart plummet at what that entailed. Would he ever see them? He began to doubt if he could stand being here if he didn't have his family to come back to.

Maybe he could call them; he still remembered all the phone numbers and he knew all the fake names they went by and – No, he couldn't contact them. Edward didn't think he could bear the thought of them unable to recall him, not recognize the sound of his voice. Even if he did tell them everything, they may need to tell the Volturi and get rid of the threat of what he had become. That would be horrible, but, God forbid, what if he found them different, maybe not even together? He was the first to join Carlisle, and if he had never done so, would there be someone else in his place?

Edward winced. He definitely couldn't get a hold of them. Perhaps he could use one of his wishes later, but now was not the time; he still had to sort things out as they were.

As if on cue, he felt a hand on his shoulder and Mike's cheery voice said, "Hey Edward, I heard you totally kicked ass at baseball last period. You should join the team; Coach is dying for a good pitcher."

Edward forced all thoughts of his family away and faked a grin. "Yeah, this Crowley kid was telling me that."

Mike started toward a table filled with people and quirked an eyebrow with a laugh. "You mean Tyler? He's basically made himself the school recruiter for anyone he thinks has talent. Don't worry; if he's on your tail, you're definitely in. He normally sits with us, but due to a nasty touch of the flu he had last week, he's been making up work in the library during lunches." They finally reached the table and Mike's permanent smile widened. "Everyone," he announced, trying to get their attention, "this is Edward Mason, and he's new from Chicago. You don't mind if he sits with us, do you?"

They all murmured "no"s and Mike then went around introducing them to Edward. "This," he pointed toward a curly-haired girl who was eyeing Edward up rather too enthusiastically, "is my girlfriend Jessica, so don't get any ideas," he laughed, but Edward could see by how they looked at each other that there was no feelings between them. Mike continued, "That's Angela, Ben, Lauren and Bella."

At that last name, Edward's head whipped up from where he had been politely nodding to Lauren and he looked into very familiar brown eyes. He struggled to make his mouth work and said, "It's very nice to meet all of you," before sitting down across from Bella, never taking his eyes off her.

The rest of the table went into regular conversation, jokes and stories continuing from before he came here, and Edward was still looking at Bella's now flushed face. After several moments of mental debate, he finally decided on a somewhat anti-climatic "Hi."

Bella looked up and he was struck by how beautiful she was; her soft hair framing her heart-shaped face and her large doe-like eyes showing the embarrassment that he couldn't possibly think of the reason for. She looked down to the empty space in front of them both and asked, "Did you bring a lunch, Edward?" Her blush deepened as she said his name.

Edward shook his head and checked his pockets, finding only keys and lint. "And I haven't got any money either." He smiled sheepishly, feeling stupid at forgetting.

Bella seemed to gain some courage as she stood up said, "I need to buy lunch and I wouldn't mind paying for yours, if you want, that is." She looked down at her feet and bit her lip in a way that made Edward's heart speed up.

"That would be lovely, Bella. And I will pay you back, I swear." He stood up as well and they had a moment, staring into each other's eyes, where he felt the need to explain it all; how he had come here and how he felt about her, but he held it back. Instead, he followed her to the lunch line, pretending not to see Mike's jealous expression.

Bella handed him a tray and went down the line picking things into hers, asking, "So, why did you move here?"

Edward had heard various questions like this, but none so blunt. He felt a wave of admiration before he answered, "My mom wanted a change of scenery after the hustle-bustle of Chicago, so my dad relocated, happy to start a new branch of the firm here."

They were at the cash register and Bella paid for the meals, looking into Edward's eyes for a while before continuing, "Do you like Forks? It has to be a big change. I'm from Phoenix and I miss the sun like crazy living here."

He met her gaze and stopped for a moment, feeling like his whole future was in those orbs. His heart sped up again and he marveled at the power she had over him already. "Oh," he said, not even thinking about it, "I'm liking it more and more by the moment."

Edward was unconsciously leaning into her, transfixed by those enchanted eyes. It seemed like he would happily drown in their deep depths. Bella felt like she knew him before, had known him forever, and leaned in too, not knowing, and not caring, why. They moved closer and closer until-

The lunch lady coughed, breaking the moment quite successfully, sending both teenagers into a fit of blushing before leaving the line and returning to their seats. Edward couldn't help but grin as he heard the lady mumble, "Crazy, hormone-driven kids."

Hoping to end the awkward silence, Edward starting thanking Bella profusely, making it sound like she saved him from the Gobi desert instead of loaning him two bucks, until she burst into a fit of giggles, drawing the attention of everyone else at their table. At this point Mike started overtaking their conversation, asking what had been so funny and pursing his lips when they had only looked at each other and laughed "Nothing."

As lunch continued, Edward saw that Mike liked Bella as more than a friend; he showed all the signs in how he looked at her more than he did his own girlfriend, tried to impress her, and made several efforts to remind her how chivalrous he had been during their gym class together. Mike noticed Edward studying him with a smirk on his face and he stared back, silently challenging him. And Edward would accept, and he would win.

The bell rang and Bella said her goodbyes, her eyes lingering on the emerald green of Edward's longer than Mike would have liked. When everyone was gone, he went up to Edward and asked him if he could talk to him. "So, uh, I saw you were looking at Bella a lot." He avoided Edward's eyes, which he knew would be livid, and said, "Look, I don't blame you for liking her, she's real hot, and I don't blame you cause you're new and all, but I _really_ like Bella."

Edward thought for a moment before saying, "What about Jessica?"

At least Mike had the decency to look ashamed. "Well, I kind of wanted to make Bella jealous…"

"Did it work?" asked Edward, using that cold logic that made Mike feel instantly guilty.

"…_No_, not _yet_, but it will. She _does_ like me, she just doesn't… exactly know it." The explanation was feeling more and more stupid as it stumbled off his lips.

Edward resisted the urge to roll his eyes; He had never thought he would end up in one of these silly teenage melodramas, but here he was, smack dab in the middle of a love triangle. "Mike, I'm not trying to claim anybody, but I won't lie and say that she doesn't interest me," interest being the understatement of the century. "Bella can decide for herself and I don't want to push her. If she wants you, I won't stand in your way." And, for the sake of trying to keep a new friend, he added, "This doesn't change anything though, you can still have your shot at her, I don't mind." Truth was, he really did mind.

Mike seemed to calm down after that and he visibly brightened. "Come on; let's go to our next class." They walked together, Mike telling Edward what clubs and teams there were in the school before they made it to biology.

Mr. Banner, a no fuss man Edward could tell he'd probably like, let him skip introducing himself to the class and sent him to the only empty desk in the room; right beside Bella. He smirked crookedly in her direction while Mr. Banner went through the room passing out test scores.

Bella leaned over and whispered to Edward, "I do believe you are stalking me, Edward. Should I be worried?"

Edward chuckled and whispered back, "It's only until you realize we were meant to be together, my precious," in the voice of a cliché horror flick psycho. Bella laughed, but Edward was sure she would be surprised if she found out how truthful he was being.

Bella gave a look of mock horror before asking in a very hushed tone. "What did Mike say to you about me?"

From her eyes, Edward could tell in a second that she knew all about Mike's desperate attempts to make her his own. She must be much more perceptive than he had thought. Though he knew she'd see right through it, he lied, "He just said that you were a great girl. I have to agree with him there."

Bella frowned slightly before dropping the subject, listening to Mr. Banner's explanation of what was going to be on the next test instead. Edward sighed and focused his attention on the teacher as well, mentally berating himself for lying. He didn't have another chance to talk to Bella until the end of the class, when she was gathering her books together.

"Bella?" She raised her head at the sound of his voice and waited expectantly, a small smile on her face. "I'll see you later." She nodded and looked over his face before she turned away, marveling at the fact that anyone could look so beautiful. Then she turned to go with Mike to their gym class, trying to pay attention to what he was saying but unable to get those emerald green eyes out of her head.

Edward went through the last period of the day in a haze, focusing all his thought on how to leap the hurdle that Newton had become. When the bell that signified the end of the day came, he walked down to the office and handed in the slip he had to get every teacher to sign before heading to the parking lot, which was practically empty.

The closer he got to his car, the more apparent a grinding sound became. He may be imagining it, he did know how faulty human hearing could be, but that sounded like a car. It wasn't just any car, it was a large red truck, in fact, one that was quite familiar to him. Inside the cab, he could see Bella bent over her steering wheel, repeatedly banging her head off of it.

He bit back laughter and walked up to the window, gently tapping it and succeeding in making her jump. With some effort, she managed to roll down the window. "I was joking about that whole stalker thing, you know; you don't have to live up to the hype."

Edward ignored the comment and leaned in the window. "It looks like you're having car troubles there."

Bella sighed and nodded sadly. "I'm not surprised, really. It was bound to go someday; all the great ones do." She looked past Edward's shoulder to the highway and said, "Now I have to walk home…"

She was surprised when Edward opened her car door and held out his hand. "Nonsense; you can ride with me. It won't be any trouble, I promise." Bella thought it over for a moment before giving up and taking his hand. Edward led her to his car, holding open her door like the gentleman he was raised to be, and got in on his own side, feeling excitement bubble up inside him. "Now you point the way and we'll get started. Just consider me your chauffer for the next few minutes."

There wasn't really room for talk as she went through a series of "lefts," "rights," and "straights" to the twisted way to her house. When they arrived, Bella said, "Thanks a lot, Edward. I'll see you tomorrow."

Sensing this might be his only opportunity for a while, Edward called out "Wait!" before she could open the door.

"What's wrong, Edward?" she asked worriedly.

In a rush, he couldn't believe he was actually nervous, he proposed, "How about you and I go see the sights tonight, Bella? I mean, I don't know Forks and I'd love a resident's view of it." He smiled uncertainly and waited for the verdict.

This only made Bella confused. "It's small and rainy, what else do you need to know?"

Grasping at straws, Edward continued, "How about a mall; is there any near by?"

Bella shook her head and said, "The closest is in Port Angeles."

Edward nodded with enthusiasm and plucked up the courage to ask, "Then why don't we go there? I need some new CDs," he thought sorely of his scarred music collection, "and I could repay you for your generosity at lunch by buying you a book, any one you want."

Bella looked up at him in surprise, "How did you know I like to read?"

Edward internally hit himself on the forehead, but lied smoothly, "A little birdie told me." He knew that she would assume that he meant Mike, when actually Bella and he had had a conversation of their favorite books while he had been treating her in the hospital. He had been surprised by her excellent taste and had wanted to see what else she liked; the books you read can tell a lot about a person, and he was still desperately trying to understand how her mind worked.

She still looked hesitant, so he added jokingly, "Please, or I'll have to stand outside your window in a trench coat and a stereo over my head like John Cusack in _Say Anything_, bewailing the fact that I couldn't spend time with you."

She deliberated for a moment, then gave in. "Well, I wouldn't want that, now would I? Pick me up in an hour." Then, she got out of the car and headed to her door, looking back once to see the wide grin of happiness on Edward's face as he pulled out of her driveway.

000

"What's the special occasion?" asked a soft voice from Edward's doorway. He turned from the task of buttoning a new shirt in the mirror, trying to answer the grand teenage question of whether or not he looked stupid in it, to see his mother.

"I'm just going up to Port Angeles with a friend of mine. We're going to be shopping around for some music, maybe a book or two, no big deal," he said, hoping she would believe him.

"Is it a girl?" For some reason, mothers could always see right through their children's lies and cover stories.

"Yes," admitted Edward embarrassedly.

"Already? Well," she smiled, "I'm sure she must be quite lovely to catch your interest so fast. Is she pretty?" She had never seen this shine in her son's eyes before, that sparkle of excitement and hope.

"She's beautiful, Mom. You'll have to meet her." Edward gave up on the shirt and started to pull on his Doc Martins, shoes Alice would have been very happy to know he owned.

Elizabeth sat on the bed next to her son and put a hand on his shoulder. "Edward, about the fight you and your father had the other day…" She looked down in her lap as she tried to find the words to explain. "He's just worried about you, sweetheart. He doesn't want you to get your hopes worked up for being a concert pianist then have them crashed down if you are rejected. Your father just wants you to have a back up plan, that's all."

Edward looked at his mother curiously. He still didn't really consider her his mother, she had died in 1918 and Esme had taken over splendidly since then. This…woman was nothing more than a clever background story to Edward; to show that he was normal, a real teenager now. He couldn't put himself into the situation and feel emotionally involved at the same time.

So it felt like show as he took her hands in his own and said, "I understand completely. I didn't mean to get so heated about it, either, it's just that I put a lot of work into my pieces and want to go a long way with them. I agree with Dad that I should have a back-up plan, so I'll minor in law in college. Maybe I'll take a few small jobs at his firm and see how I like it." Then he went back to lacing his shoes, like he hadn't just set a course for his future.

Edward had yet to grasp the importance of a job for humans. He had only taken on work as a vampire with thought of eternity to change between what he wanted. He wasn't in the mind set to know that what you choose is what you live with… forever, and forever was the equivalent to a time bomb for humans, short and fragile, with much too many what-ifs to ever be sure of anything.

His mother smiled and looked at Edward with pride and love. "My little boy is grown up now," she said in the warbled voice of someone on the brink of tears. "You're so mature. If it's because of this mystery girl, I'll have to thank her." She simultaneously sniffed and giggled. "Have a good time, honey. Be back by eleven." Elizabeth mussed her son's already untidy hair and walked out the door, wondering how she had raised such an extraordinary boy.

Edward glanced at his clock and saw that he only had ten minutes to spare. He threw on his coat and grabbed his keys and wallet from the dresser before running down the stairs, yelling "Goodbye Mom!"

He was on top of the world then, only thinking of long, flowing chestnut hair and deep brown eyes. He turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of his driveway swiftly, much too used to the speed and accuracy of his vampire reflexes. It started to rain then, and Edward turned on his wipers absent-mindedly, planning what he would say to Bella, how he would get close to her.

He was so distracted by the wonderful visions of her laughter that he didn't see the headlights of another car coming on his right until it was too late.

Edward tried to stop, his jaw clenched over the strain of holding the steering wheel and flooring the brakes, a terrified hiss escaping through his gritted teeth. But the water had already started collecting on the road, causing his would-be stop to turn into a full-on slide, only bringing him closer into the path of the oncoming car.

The impact forced his head into the glass of his closed window, making thick blood pour down the nape of his neck from where his skull had cracked open. The other car hit at a diagonal line, crushing the entire right front of the Volvo. It continued on several feet before hitting a tree on the side of the road.

Edward hadn't felt pain since the change, not really. This though, this new awful hurt exploded in his senses; making his head feel like it was filled with broken glass and his legs, both broken from the impact, feel like they were dipped in acid. He felt on the urge of blacking out, and he wanted to, so he could get away from the pain, but he resisted. He knew that if he didn't apply pressure to the wound on the back of his head, he'd die of blood loss. But first he had to get out of the car.

The door had already opened when the frame of the car pressed it down, so Edward unbuckled his seat belt, trying to ignore how his muscles screamed and raved, and threw his weight so he would fall out of the car. It was so low to the ground now that it didn't hurt as much as he was afraid of, but even the tiniest movement of his legs made up for that, burning and grinding against the broken bones.

Once on the ground, Edward struggled to unbutton his shirt, so he could use it as a tourniquet, but found he had no strength. The cuts and strained muscles of his arms made it useless and all he could do was lay on the ground, in an increasing puddle of his own blood, whishing and praying for someone to come, someone to help.

But no one did.

Edward saw only one option in his tired, painful brain; he had to undo the wish. He cast his mind to the contract, the words and rules that he had had to abide to slurring in his pain into absolute nothingness. _Focus!_ he screamed to himself. _Focus or you will die!_ The contract, he envisioned it, going through it slowly and methodically in his vampire memory. There was one part near the end that had stated if the client wished to nullify a wish all they had to do was…

What?

All they had to do was…Snap their fingers!

Edward turned to his slowly numbing hand as he heard cars coming closer, shouts calling for an ambulance. He willed it to move, and, slowly but surely, he gained control, making his fingers hit across each other, only needing them to make a sound. But the blood on his hands was too thick, making his fingers slippery so he couldn't make them snap.

Feeling the faintness take over him as his body began to black out, Edward increased the friction of his fingers, _needing_ them to snap. He could feel someone standing over him, yelling, "Get an ambulance here _now_!" The presence came closer as he whispered, "Shit, he's only a kid. Only a kid…"

But he mustn't focus on that distracting voice, no, he had to get himself out of here, he had to live and see his family and tell Bella that he loved her. He started lose feeling in his hand, no longer knowing if he was moving his fingers or not, not knowing if he still had a chance, until-

_Snap!_

The sound echoed in his aching mind, giving a pleasant numbness to his surroundings and making him feel like crying in relief. The last thing he saw was the flashing of sirens before everything seemed to dissolve and turn black.


	3. Just Like Me

**Here is the long awaited chapter three. Let me just apologize in advance to anyone who is insulted by my berating certain music. I think I can safely say that the devil made me do it. ;) **

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own **_**Twilight **_**or **_**The Devil Went Down to Georgia**_** by the ****Charlie Daniels Band****, but, perhaps, I could make a certain deal for their ownership…**

* * *

Just Like Me

"Well," drawled a voice, "it's a good thing you snapped your fingers in time, Eddie. Cause when you're dead, you're dead, and no amount of wishing can change that." It wasn't necessarily the best greeting, but it warmed Edward's once-more quiescent heart; showing him that he was alive, figuratively speaking, and no longer bleeding to death on the street. The devil had never been more welcome than he was now.

Edward opened his eyes and was greeted by the familiar sight of his living room; only not from this angle. He realized he was lying on the floor and got to his feet in a flash; reveling in the way there was no ache or pain in his muscles and how his legs held him up with perfect ease. After the nightmare-like agony that accompanied with existing as a human, being a vampire again was a God-send. Or a Devil-send.

"These are rather stark living arrangements," continued James, who was on the other side of the room, studying the endless amount of music that took up a whole wall. "I took a look around and it seems like this is the only room that is furnished. Tell me, why do you choose to live in this piece of garbage when your family had a lovely house just a mile or two away?"

Edward looked around his house for a moment. All other rooms except the living room were out of use and untouched. He only used this room to store his music, books, and paper work, along with a desk, a chair and a matching couch. "I guess I never really considered this my home. During sunny days or weekends, I visit my family in Seattle." Edward wondered over to his desk, where there was a photograph of the whole Cullen clan together, happy and smiling.

"And that house," he thought of the beautiful white mansion on the outskirts of town, "it just doesn't feel right to be there without them. I keep expecting to turn the corner and see Esme dusting or Emmett trying to start a paintball war, but when I do, it's just… empty. I thought it would be better to be somewhere else."

James appeared to have lost all interest in his original question, for he was turning knobs and messing around with Edward's expensive stereo system. He pressed a button haphazardly and the radio blared on, a fiddle-accompanied man was singing, "_The devil went down to Georgia, he was looking for a soul to steal._" James grunted angrily and shut it off immediately. "That song…" he sighed with a long born contempt. "I don't even play the fiddle, but if I did I certainly wouldn't let a little country brat beat _me_."

Agitated, James continued on, looking through Edward's records as he did. "Now, personally, I like jazz. None of them up there," he pointed vaguely at the ceiling, "have _any_ taste in music; it's either Chopin" Edward restrained in saying that he actually liked Chopin, "or Christian Rock." His mood changed in a flash when he saw a record and put in the player. A soft jazz tune filled the air and James smiled lazily while he commenced to lounge on Edward's sofa.

"Have you thought of what your next wish will be Edward? Let's hope it doesn't involve the strenuous act of driving, shall we?" James asked, his eyes closed and his finger twirling absent-mindedly to the beat.

Edward bit back his angry reply; he did know that it was his fault for his almost death in his first wish, but he didn't like someone, even the devil, rubbing it in. "Being human is too risky," Edward started. "They are so fragile and their lives much too short. I can see only one alternative, for both Bella's and my safety." Edward took a deep breath and thought his idea over once more in his mind. After coming up with no more solutions he gave up and said what he thought necessary. "I wish Bella was a vampire."

James cracked one eye open in something like surprise and his smile widened, showing all of his pearly white, and mysteriously sharp, teeth. Without a word, he snapped his fingers and, to Edward's immense surprise, disappeared. All Edward knew was that James was here one moment and gone the next, leaving him alone in the living room.

The clock on the wall struck eight in the morning and Edward saw he was late for work. Deciding to wait a little longer before he tried to find James once more, he got into his Volvo and drove to Forks Community Hospital. By the time he entered the front door, he was bombarded with almost tearful interns, throwing questions at him and thinking of a blood-covered figure on a gurney.

He shoved past them and jogged toward the room they were thinking of, seeing a man and woman in hiking gear holding hands worriedly in the corner while something that only slightly resembled a human screamed in pain. Edward rushed to it and, after trying to sort through its thoughts which mainly consisted of how much it hurt (_Like fire, spreading through my body, and oh, I shouldn't have followed, should have done anything but followed_), saw that it was a teenage boy of only fifteen or so.

Edward bent over the boy, retying the bandages the interns had put on more efficiently, and studied the wounds. It looked as if something had ripped and shredded the skin with its teeth. It could've been a wolf or bear, but not any of the werewolves because it hadn't started appearing yet in La Push, they were all still too young. He saw how every laceration was at a major artery, like both of the wrists, the neck and even some of the chest. Only one thing could come to his mind for a cause of this.

A vampire.

Edward looked over the boy again, hearing the screaming thoughts of agony and desperation. This was not the normal behavior that would accompany simple injuries. A thought jumped up into Edward's mind and he dwelled over it, examining it from all sides and testing its awful but oh so true nature. The boy, so young and innocent, was going through the change. He was becoming a vampire as well.

This horrified Edward. How could he have let this happen? How did a simple wish turn into something as sinister as destroying this boy's future? Hoping that he was wrong, that it was someone, _anyone_, else, Edward leaned in and asked the boy, "Who did this to you?"

The boy sputtered and spat out blood, covering more of his skin in it, dying it a hideous crimson, and only managed to whisper, "S-so _beautiful_," in his gurgled and pathetic state. Images flashed through his mind though. They were fragmented and sketchy, often interrupted by an internal shock of pain, but they showed he had been walking through the forest. It had started to rain and when he turned back in the direction of his car when he saw something. There was a moment when he felt like he was being watched, and then, from seemingly nowhere, there was a girl, so pristine in her perfection that he was dazed. Edward couldn't exactly see the particulars of her because the boy's mind skipped and froze in his horror of remembering, but what he _did_ see was all he needed to know.

She was a ghostly ivory, with long, waving chestnut hair, and deep red eyes. What had Edward done?

Another cry erupted from the boy's bloody mouth and he writhed in place, the tendons on his neck standing out in his strain. Edward could already see that his skin was paling by a degree and his wounds were slowly, almost unnoticeably, stitching the skin and torn flesh together. The boy's mind reeled from the shock he still felt and his heart sped up to an impossible beat, making the monitor he was hooked up to beep shrilly.

Edward didn't know what to do; his heart wasn't supposed to do this yet. The transformation was supposed to keep its host alive until the end the end. His heart couldn't fail now. But before he could do anything, the beeping stopped and the boy slumped down in the gurney, motionless and most assuredly dead.

The two hikers that were still in the corner gave a wail and started to sob even louder, asking themselves in their thoughts why a boy had to die so early and how unfair the world was. Edward covered the body with a sheet and motioned for one of the interns to take care of the rest while he stood in amazement, not yet comprehending what had happened.

Deciding that he needed to remedy this situation now, he walked over to the hikers and, in his best caring and concerned doctor voice, asked, "Excuse me, but do you know where that boy was when you found him. I should phone the police department and have them put an alert up for dangerous animals in that area."

The woman was still unable to form coherent sentences, so her boyfriend sniffled then answered the question, "That's v-very thoughtful of you doctor. W-we were on Mount Rainer, near the bottom. I don't know exactly where, I'm s-sorry I can't be any more he-help." As if the death were all his fault, he once more collapsed into tears and Edward turned away, not sure if he should pat his shoulder and say "There there," or do the classic slap across the face while screaming, "Get a hold of yourself man!" so he settle on neither.

As he walked to his car, not even bothering to explain to the still hysterical interns where he was going, Edward made a mental map of Mount Rainer. He knew the area pretty well from his hunting excursions, but the area was much too big to track a fast moving and probably gone vampire. Before he could dive further into his brain's theories, his cell phone rang in his pocket. He flipped it open without looking at the caller ID and muttered something unintelligible that could only be described as a hello in several small Eastern countries.

"What did you do?" growled a deadly voice of pure rage.

Edward, caught off his guard for a moment, but well recovered in the short amount of time he had, smoothly replied, "What exactly do you mean, Alice? One does many things in the course of a day and with your lack of clues I'm having trouble narrowing down which-"

"Cut the shit, Edward!" she yelled. "You made a deal with the _devil_! You had said that you will tell me if _anything_ out of the ordinary happened, but you somehow failed to mention that you_ sold your soul_! Do you have _any_ idea how much you screwed up the future?"

Edward, trying very hard to find some positive perspective to cool Alice's temper, meekly added, "At least you can see the future again."

He was rewarded with a frustrated exhale of breath and several moments of silence before she could manage to speak up again. "This girl – Bella – I think I can remember her from before your wish. It seems like a dream, so distant and out of my reach, but I think she had once been human. What did you wish for exactly, Edward?"

It was now Edward's turn for a sigh and silence. When he couldn't think of any way to put it nicely, he gave up and told her, "I wished that she was a vampire, like me…"

"Like you?" she screeched, any hope of sympathetic compassion gone. "Without any regard for what kind of vampire she'd be, without any care for what your dear and _sane_ family would think, you run after impossible things with the assistance of the _adversary_ and throw away any caution your apparently _inane _and _pathetic_ body may have had to chase after some girl like a lovesick _puppy_! You are so much more worse than that reckless and childish _Romeo_ you feel high enough on your damn pedestal to judge!"

"Ouch."

There was an angry _harrumph_ before she once more launched into her fury. "And you deserve to be called much more than that _buddy_!" Alice had the curious talent of making a simple word like "buddy" turn synonymic with "asshole." "Tell me now," she continued, "What did you think you were doing?"

"I…st…an…ap..." was the faint and indecipherable noise that came out of Edward's mouth, so quiet and ashamed in itself that it couldn't reach a higher volume.

"Did you say something Edward?" snarled Alice. "Speak up so I can _hear you grovel_."

"I said that I just wanted to be happy!" burst Edward, not even thinking as the words fell out of his mouth. "I love Bella, and seeing that I'm a vampire and she is – _was­_ – a human, it was impossible that she could love me as we were. I was weak and desperate and only saw her, not the consequences." He slumped in his seat and hit his head off the steering wheel in a sad gesture of resignation. Then he thought of her brown eyes and sweet smile, and once more reminded himself of what was important. "I'm sorry Alice, but I can't regret something if it brings me even a _bit_ closer to Bella. She's the loveliest girl, better than any I could ever dream up, and I'm utterly and completely besotted with her, despite what has or may happen."

"It's hard to hate you when you turn all sweet, you romantic bastard," she gave up. "Is there anything I can do to reunite the two of you love birds?"

Edward allowed himself to smile and started his car with renewed hope. "I need to find her, Alice. It seems that she has attacked a boy here in Forks. He…died." He ignored Alice's gasp of surprise and tried to explain. "I think she's a newborn, and we now the lure and temptation of human blood, especially when you are alone and confused. I need to find her before anything else happens. She had attacked the boy on a Mount Rainer trail, but she could be anywhere now. Can you help me find her Alice?"

There was silence on the other line as Edward navigated his car through the obstacles of ice patches and heaps of snow that lay randomly in the parking lot. He was beginning to wonder if she had just up and walked away from the phone when he heard her anxious voice fill his ear. "She's at that meadow place you liked to go to, Edward. But be careful, I couldn't see anything but the setting; it's like my sight has cut off its peripherals and I don't know what's going to happen or how either of you will act. Do you want me to come with Jasper and Emmett, just in case?"

It was the sisterly affection that was clouding her senses, and Edward felt relieved that her scary self had been tucked away for the time being. "No, but thanks. I've made this mess and I will figure it out on my own. Thanks for all your help, Alice. Goodbye."

"Good luck, Edward. I hope you find her," she said earnestly, hoping beyond hope that this could end nicely.

Edward was on the highway now, accelerating over his usual limit-breaking-speed and weaving in between the slow, cautious drivers of the Forks area. In only a matter of minutes, he pulled into a parking space and jumped out of his car, not even bothering to lock it in his hurry. He took a slow run through the woods, going off his trail and guiding his way around the clusters of towering trees and thick undergrowth, trying to catch a whiff of her scent among the thick smell of the forest.

As he was struggling from the inability to hear her thoughts, Edward thought over Alice's returned powers. He knew that James had blocked them at the beginning, but why would he lift his stop on them now? It felt like he _wanted_ Edward to find Bella. Did he have a motive that Edward didn't understand?

Before he could think it through any further, a wonderful scent came drifting to Edward's noise. And it was a lot like freesia. He sped in that direction as fast as he could, not even bothering for stealth. He stepped into the clearing, which had lost its normal glory in the blanket of winter snow that covered it, looking around and noticing that he wasn't alone.

She looked beautiful, standing across from him, with a wintry wind picking up and her long hair and sending away from her face and into the air. He seemed to have surprised her for it was written over her perfect features, but, to his own surprise and shock, she crouched into a defensive position, growling in warning.

It was then that Edward looked past the attractiveness; he could see what she had become now. She was wearing ill fitting clothes that were probably stolen and covered in blood, and if he hadn't already, Edward would have bet his soul that the blood belonged to the boy, maybe even more victims. Bella was barefoot and grimy, blotches of dirt and muck accompanying the blood on her ragged clothes. "Bella?" he asked in an amazed voice.

There was only a growl in response.

Scraping desperately in his mind for words to say, he walked forward, his arms out in the universal sign of "I don't want to hurt you" and said in a soothing voice, "You don't have to live this way, Bella. I remember that you once hated to see other people hurt. I can help you control your thirst."

She stood up straight and looked at him for a few moments. "Why would I want to give this up?" she asked in a melodic and beautiful voice.

Surprised by her callousness, Edward could only think of saying, "You won't have to hurt people, or suffer any guilt and future regret-"

"Guilt?" she laughed harshly. "Regret? How can I _regret_ the fun of the hunt or the taste of their blood? Humans are at our disposal and I see no reason why I should feel _guilty_ about taking what is mine by right. From the color of your eyes, I can tell that you are one of the _human lovers_," she sneered the words like they were acid in her mouth, "and I can tell you that I've lived over _sixty years_ without a _drop _of the remorse you speak of."

There it was; the truth. Edward could no longer put her kills under the tidy umbrella of newborn slip ups. She had been killing for decades, with no conscience and no soul to help her now. He covered the distance between them quickly and placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to make her understand. "Bella, you don't want this life of senseless killing. You used to be so sweet and kind and you hated hurting people, even if it was by accident. Can't you remember?"

It sunk in that his wish had altered the past. Instead of living in Forks and being treated by him in the hospital, Bella was gallivanting around as a vampire, killing and loving every moment of it. For some reason, only he and Alice remembered the way things were supposed to be.

Bella shoved Edward's hands away roughly and sneered, "I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not this sweet and innocent girl you keep mistaking me for. Now, if you would so kindly come to your senses, _leave_!" She glared up at Edward and crossed her arms expectantly.

He scrambled a step closer, only earning another growl from Bella. "No, you don't understand!" he tried to explain. "None of this has ever happened! It's all from a wish I made and _this isn't the real you_!" He tired to say more, but Bella seemed to have had enough of his blather and pounced on him.

"I," she yelled in his face, "want you to leave _right now_!"

She had his arms pinned down, but Edward, with many years of wrestling with Emmett under his belt, twisted under her grasp and threw her off, getting up to his feet quickly in a defensive position. She was crouched down and ready to jump at him once more when Edward simply couldn't take looking at her murderous and growling face any longer. He snapped his fingers and she halted before she could make another move.

But instead of everything dissolving into blackness like it had before, things stayed frozen. Edward looked around in confusion and, seeing nothing that could help him, turned back to Bella. Except it wasn't the same as before; James was there.

"Now tell me, Edward," he started in his always-amused voice while he slowly circled around the motionless girl, "isn't this your very description of what the devil is? And yet, you love her. That is sending me a mixed message."

In a momentary blind fury, Edward rushed toward James and grabbed his collar, shoving him up against a nearby tree and bellowing at him, "This isn't _my_ Bella! What did you do to her to make her like this?"

James, still smiling mockingly and not even looking affected by the fact that he was dangling over a foot off the ground, remained silent.

This only angered Edward further and he lifted James higher off the ground, pushing him still deeper into the tree. So much so that there was a splintering vibration and icicles rained down from the branches all around them. "Are you intentionally screwing things up, James? Now tell me, _what_" he pulled him from the tree and pushed him in once more, making James go deeper, "_did_" and deeper, "_you_" and deeper, "_do_" and deeper, "_to Bella_?" and deeper. Splinters were covering James's coat jacket and fallen branches littered the ground around them.

The devil had retained a bored expression through this whole event, not even bothering to fake pain he didn't feel. "There are many planes of reality, Eddie," he said with an infuriatingly cool voice and relaxed smile. "Did you really expect that your Bella would be the same in each one?" He asked this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Edward had no time to ask what this meant, for James seemed to change. He was losing his thickness and Edward had trouble holding on to the quickly disappearing James, until there was nothing in his hands and only a James-shaped indent in the tree.

His anger still at its highest point, Edward punched the tree with all his force, sending it colliding with all the ones behind it, forming a domino affect that would go on for a mile or so.

When he turned to the still-frozen Bella, things started fading and dissolving like he had remembered, and, as the blackness closed in from all sides, the last thing he saw was his beautiful Bella, snarling and ready to kill, breaking his poor, abused and disappointed heart once again.

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Poor Edward! He just can't get things right! Next chapter we'll see if he can get his third wish any better.

**As always, thanks for reading.**


	4. The Hunted

**A person too observant for their own good (**_**cough **_**– BlueDolphinz – **_**cough**_**) had asked if un-wishing one of the wishes counted as a wish itself (doesn't that sound confusing?) but the answer is no, it is not. Thank you for bringing it up and terribly sorry for any confusion I may have caused.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own **_**Twilight**_**, but, perhaps, I could make a certain deal for its ownership…**

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The Hunted

The first thing that came to Edward's attention was the jazz melody floating from the darkness. Then, as if he were just opening his eyes from a dream, he was gone from the clearing and in his living room once more. Nothing had changed from when he had first made the second wish, not even James, who was lying yet again on the sofa, completely peaceful and calm considering the fact that Edward wanted to kill him.

Though before he could open his mouth to shout some rather well chosen words, the violent urge miraculously faded, turning Edward's burning hatred into a submissive and gloomy sadness. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get out of his self-pitying state of mind and into a proper mood for fighting. If he wasn't so surprised by this startling change of countenance in himself, he might have noticed the smug smirk that had graced James's face.

It never occurred to him, or someone didn't _want_ it to occur to him, that things that ordinarily would never happen actually _did_ happen when the devil saw it to his advantage. Surely a pesky little thing like a person's feelings were easily bent to his will.

"Why?" asked Edward in his new depressed voice, sinking down into the chair and resting his head in his hands. "That look on her face; it was as if I were merely the scum of the earth she was glaring down upon. Why did you make her like that?" He stared beseechingly at James, who seemed to have adopted a half-serious frame of mind for the moment.

"Edward," he consoled in a voice that would have made any Christian of strong morals think he was a swell guy, "you seem to forget one vital detail: I'm the devil. You know, _Satan_. I don't have what you'd call a good reputation for being fair."

For hearing what he had expected since the beginning, Edward was a lot more astonished than he should have been. He felt his anger returning, but it was ambivalent as to whether he was overcoming the suppressive power of false emotions or that James just wanted something amusing to watch. "So this was all trickery?" he growled as he stood from his seat. "From the very start? Did you intentionally plan to cheat your way into someone's desperate hopes or did something about me just piss you off?"

James shook his head and perched himself at the edge of the sofa, adopting the same tone a mother would use to explain that there are absolutely _no_ monsters in his closet. "Don't be so downtrodden, Eddie. I took an interest in you, that's all. I could see all the potential you possess, and I merely wanted to help you. And I _still do_. You just need to understand that I'm bound to take advantage of any loophole you present me. Perhaps if you were to be a tad more thorough in preparing for the would-be consequences, I wouldn't be able to pull a fast one on you so easily."

Letting his reasonable side see the logic in what he said, Edward nodded hesitantly but let his skepticism ask, "But won't you just ruin it anyway?"

"Not if you make things impeccably clear. Possibly, if you don't make such a drastic wish, you will be able to have more control in the situation."

Edward thought that over. So far he had wished for himself to become human, and for Bella to be a vampire; both were radical and far-fetched, requiring much to alter for it to become true. If he chose a wish that was simpler and straight-forward, there would be less of a chance that the devil could interpret it in some awful way.

It all made sense… but it felt…_wrong_; like he was being forced into a corner impossible to retreat from. He hadn't thought this decision through properly. He had acted on blind spontaneity, something that horrified Edward, with his planning and arranging nature. Now he was forced to trust, and take advice from, Lucifer himself for any chance of happiness that seems to be left in his bleak, dismal future.

Things were increasingly looking down for Edward.

But he was stuck, and the contract had stated quite clearly that he had to carry on with the wish making; the only way to be free of the contract is to complete all seven wishes. So Edward must continue, hoping that the sly grin of the man he was speaking to was only for show, and not hiding more of his nasty surprises behind it.

He sat down in his chair once more, pinching the bridge of his nose in between his fingers, and set his too-tired and strained brain to work. Simplicity was his aim at the moment; the less changed from his current situation, the easier to be able to adapt to and take into his own hands. Everyone ought to stick to their current species, he felt a twinge of joy when he knew he didn't have to give up his family, but one person in particular shouldn't be opposed to changing that problem.

Resisting the urge to wave his pointer-finger in the air and say "a-ha!" in a triumphant voice, Edward faced James with a smile that said, "Two can play at this game." He let a moment of silence draw out for the sake of anticipation, and then said the words he hoped with all his heart would bring about his happiness:

"I wish that Bella accepts what I am and that I am able to protect her from anything that can harm her."

James's smile didn't falter as he solemnly said, "Your wish is my command, Eddie," before he snapped his fingers, and everything around Edward faded and twisted. The plain, white walls of his living room grew brighter and the stale, dusty scent around him changed to that of fresh flowers and an oncoming rain. Edward had a dizzying experience from the quick change of his sitting position to crouching down on his stomach in the undergrowth of a forest, his sight limited by the tall grass in front of him.

He was about to stand up when he realized where he was; outside Forks High. It appeared as though the last bell of the day had been rung, because a mad mob of students was fleeing out of the simple brick buildings to their cars and rushing on their way to freedom, their minds already bursting with things they could do over the weekend.

Puzzlement was about to set into Edward's brain, but it was quickly and completely shoved out of the way by an intense and irresistible thirst. Though, this wasn't like the normal one Edward felt; an insignificant, if only slightly inconvenient, itch in the back of his throat. No, it brought back memories of life as a newborn, in a constant state of unsatisfied hunger and unbearable want.

He could feel his predator instinct taking over and a cold feeling of detachment from any other feeling than the _need_ that grew and bubbled through his limbs. Now Edward didn't think of himself as anything else but a useful machine in getting his prize; that delightful aroma wafting through the air to his grateful nose. It reminded him of freesia.

The parking lot was practically empty then, and he slouched over to where it was coming from, remaining low to the ground and keeping a cover in front of him. He was now directly across from a large red truck, and, from his limited angle of vision, he could only see the top of a brunette head and a blond boy that leaned into the open window, thinking of a plan to ask the brunette out. He thoughts turned sour when she apparently denied him and he slunk off, leaving Edward alone with his prey.

A part of him, a very very _very_ deep part of him, seemed to be uncontrolled by the animalistic behavior that had taken over the rest of him. It was a sane, rational Edward that could see what was happening and recognize all the things in front of him; especially the person who owned the dark brown hair in the truck. Rational Edward tried desperately to pull the reins in on this new Feral Edward, but it refused, bucking and urging him to wait and watch as the red car finally started and slowly left the parking lot.

Seeing an opportunity to get away, Rational Edward attempted to turn its wayward body back into the forest, away from the lure of blood, but Feral Edward had a different plan. Running gracefully and unseen, he stayed behind the line of trees on the side of the road and followed the truck down the highway, planning and plotting for the enjoyment to come.

Soon, the truck pulled onto a quiet street, deserted for quite a while until it reached the knot of homes just a bit ahead. Seeing his only chance, Edward dove into the street behind the truck, successfully slashing the two back tires in a manner of seconds with his strong as steel fingernails, and dashed back into the cover of woods to wait.

Bella pounded the steering wheel with her fist and cursed loudly. The Thing had finally broken down. But she couldn't mourn its loss just yet; she was still too angry that it hadn't had the decency to keel over in the comfort of its own driveway. With the last bit of momentum in the poor deceased truck, she managed to maneuver it to the side of the road, where it would cause any accidents as she made the wearying hike back to Charlie's.

She pulled her jacket on and looked at the sky worriedly; it was going to rain soon. Though, this shouldn't entirely surprise her. She _had_, after all, been living in Forks for a little over a year now, and the fact that it was going to rain seemed a given in her new everyday life. A very mundane, maddening, and depressing given.

Glad she had had the foresight to wear tennis shoes, Bella set off down the road, not even bothering to notice that slashed tires, not old age, had done away with The Thing. She let her mind wonder from the ever-looming downpour to much more pleasant things; like Doctor Cullen. Or, as she could only think in her most secret and cherished school-girl fantasies; Edward.

A smile graced her face and she felt the rush of blood paint her cheeks red (unknowingly setting off a monster on her dangerously close right). The handsome man had been the enigma in Bella's life since she had entered the hospital after cutting her palm, needing four stitches and leaving a faint scar, while trying to dice a tomato rather too quickly.

At first she thought he hated her; he didn't say anything and ran out of the room as quickly as possible, leaving her to the care of Dr. Snow, but then he began warming up to her and taking care of her every time she came in. If she already didn't harm herself on a daily basis, she probably would have seriously considered "accidentally" tripping just to see that smile of his.

When she had narrowly missed getting hit by Tyler Crowley's car, the teachers insisted that she go to the hospital for a standard check-up anyways, and Edward had treated her. He listened to her stuttering rants on how she was just fine and let her use his examination room as a hideaway from the mob of students waiting to take anybody even vaguely connected with the accident into their grasping and seemingly concerned embrace. All the while he stayed with her and asked her questions about herself – like things as commonplace as "What's your favorite color?" – and seemed genially interested in her replies.

Edward was charming and sweet and everything she had thoroughly believed didn't exist in the Mike Newtons and Eric Yorkies of the world. At the close of that day Bella had to finally admit to herself that she was completely smitten with his heart-melting smile and golden eyes.

Bella was taken out of her thoughts when a bush to her right rustled suddenly. Normally, she would have just blamed the fact on an animal, but upon listening she realized that she hadn't heard the usual tumult of birdsong and cricket chirps that seemed unbreakable ever since she had moved. She stopped in her tracks and, fearful for a reason she didn't understand, she stared as the tall bushes rustled and shook before a hand as pale as the moon reached out with predatory slowness and pulled the branches out of its owner's way.

Picture her surprise when the very man she had been thinking and dreaming of waltzed out of the forest like it was nothing out of the ordinary. She reframed from pinching herself and called hesitantly, "Dr. Cullen? What are you doing here?" But he didn't say anything as he came closer and closer. There was something off about the way he looked and Bella felt herself taking a step back without even thinking about it. Maybe it was the slightly animalistic way he approached her, maybe how his eyes were as black as the day they had first met, but she was afraid of Edward.

She audibly swallowed and tried again. "Dr. Cullen? Did you want something from me?"

He was in front of her now, and the side of his mouth quirked up at a private thought Bella wasn't even sure she wanted to know. He reached out and traced the curve of her jaw with the tips of his fingers, his cold touch setting Bella's skin on fire and her heart sped up. His eyes burned into hers, black like a crow's wing, and he murmured, "So many things Bella... But you'll know of them soon enough."

Edward leaned in even further, placing his cold lips on Bella's cheek. At that moment she should have known that something was wrong, that this wasn't the careful and sweetly uncertain Edward she had fallen in love with during her trips to the hospital, but, as his strong arm wove around her waist and pulled her closer, she couldn't think of anything but his heady aroma. It clouded her senses and drew her in with only the thought of never wanting it to end on her mind.

His lips wondered down her face and inched closer to her neck. He inhaled deeply before whispering in his velvet voice, "I want _you_, Bella; only you." She gasped as she felt his freezing breath upon her skin. There was an instant of hesitance (perhaps it was Rational Edward, fighting frantically for the power to run away and leave Bella, perhaps he was just simply trying to unknot his fingers from where they were at her waist so he could snap his fingers and get out of the nightmare this had become) but it was ended quickly and, before she knew it, sharp teeth broke Bella's skin.

It felt like her life was slowly being pulled from her body. She tried in vain to push him away but his grasp was like iron, holding her so closely she could feel every bit of his body against hers. It was then that Bella realized, when she was growing increasingly light-headed and her heart slowed, what Dr. Cullen really was; a vampire.

As the blackness dimmed her mind and she lost all feeling of her limbs she could only make out the fact that she was going to die by his hands, and that she loved him regardless. And she accepted that.

With a cry, Edward came to his senses and let go, stumbling back with disbelief on his face as he watched Bella fall to the ground and move no more. The understanding slapped him in the face that he had just killed the one that he loved more than anything else.

As if on cue, the angry looking clouds above rumbled and rain fell on the distraught figure beside the road. Edward threw himself on his knees and cradled her in his arms, shaking with grief too great to be understood. He brushed her long hair from her face and whispered for forgiveness, for another try, for his love to be returned to his side. But none of it came true and he was left in a growing puddle of mud, sobbing tearlessly to the unmoving face of Bella.

It could have lasted minutes, hours, or days for all that Edward knew, but he resurfaced long enough to comprehend that this whole mess could be reversed and ended, that his love could be alive and breathing once more. Through the slick rain, he managed to snap his fingers, and he watched as the angel in his arms grew less substantial, until she went from nothing but a gray shadow of what she had been to only space in front of him. Edward looked over to where her truck had been pulled over, but it too was gone.

A voice, thoughtful and urging, caught his attention and he knew without turning around that it was James, standing in the rain at his side and saying, "Edward… maybe you two just aren't meant to be…"

The rain came down harder and thunder growled in the distance, unable to block out the strangled sobs that poured out from Edward's soul. And all the while James looked on, smiling in his always delighted manner and not bothering to hide his smug expression as Edward collapsed further on the ground in his heartache, clutching his chest from the pain that burned his heart and unable to rid himself of the act that had been done.

Edward hadn't been able to save Bella from himself.

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Things may be looking dreadful beyond words, but hold on just a while longer; I can promise a happy ending.


	5. Peeping Edward

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own **_**Twilight**_**, but, perhaps, I could make a certain deal for its ownership…**

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Peeping Edward

"Is that what Hell is like?" croaked Edward, not looking up from his hands, which were clenched together in the spot where Bella had been. He didn't even know why he asked the question, it had just jumped out his throat; a random scrap of half-thought that was meant to fill the void of silence. If he had to hear nothing but the rain and the dour echoes of her heartbeat slowing, Edward was sure he would go mad.

He heard James shift, probably leaning against a tree or finding a tree stump to sit on. "Well," he started in the same voice a parent would use to answer a child when they had questioned where babies come from, "that all depends on the person. You seem to think that I dish out all the punishments and placements in Hell's ever so splendid little divisions, but it is the very opposite. It's a point of view, really, like how I appear to someone.

"Some see Hell as a place or instance in time that tortured them for the rest of their lives; war fields, as a child again in the home of an abusive parent, or being bullied in high school. To some, Hell is only an eternal blankness that stretches on and on, leaving them with nothing to distract themselves from what they had become."

James paused for several seconds, building up for what he would say next. And though Edward knew it would be directed to him, to make him squirm and feel his heart twist in pain again, he couldn't find it in himself to interrupt. "I remember this one man who had been born with the urge to kill. He despised that creeping and crawling dark side of him that took over, leaving him to watch on as he destroyed lives. _His_ Hell is perpetually being led by his shadow self, unable to even _hope_ for redemption." Edward could hear the smile in his voice and heard James shift again, this time walking in front of Edward, and looking down at him in his usual impeccably dressed grandeur. The rain seemed to stop and veer off in a different direction before it touched him, leaving James completely dry in the dismal storm.

"Of course there is also the Hell that houses the uncreative; you know, fire and brimstone and hordes of demons torturing them for the rest of existence. But, hey, who am I to judge?"

"How nice," mumbled Edward, "Satan's modest."

His grin widened, displaying all his teeth in the way you'd think a shark would before it goes in for the kill. "That's the spirit! Now get to your feet and buck up; you can get over this little bump in the road!" Despite his cheerful and encouraging tone, Edward didn't have to read his mind to know he was thoroughly enjoying this; James hadn't missed the angry wince on Edward's face when he had said, "little bump in the road."

But Edward stayed on his knees, drenched to the skin, and miserable. Something that James had said kept returning to his mind with more and more force. "What did you mean when you said, 'maybe you two just aren't meant to be'?"

A dark chuckle emitted from James's chest. "Let's face it Eddie; the two of you don't really have a good track record. Number one," he held up his pointer finger and waved it in front of Edward, "you die. Number two," now the middle finger joined the equation, "she is the exact definition of what you think evil is. Number three," and finally the ring finger came up, "_she_ dies. See what I mean? Now, why don't you chase after some other girl, maybe a movie star or super model? You can't have worse luck than you've already been having."

Now Edward finally met his gaze. "Yeah, sure; I'll just give up on the love of my life and start dating a super model. Good idea."

James's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really?"

"Of course not!" Edward finally got to his feet and starting pacing the muddy forest floor, a new and determined aspect to his posture and hope in his voice. "I still have four more chances left and I am not going to screw them up." He tried to think, but the feel of Bella's cold body in his arms and her blank stare as the life had drained out of her kept invading his thoughts, turning it away from the brink of any good idea he had, making him forget it.

Edward grew more and more agitated with his inability to stop thinking of her as dead; he needed to see her alive and healthy, and the want grew until he couldn't stop himself from blurting out "I just wish I could see how she is!"

He only had enough time to slap himself on the head and hear James say, "Well _that_ certainly wasn't screwing up a wish, now, was it?" before he snapped his fingers.

000

"Bella?" Charlie called from the base of the stairs. "They're going to be here any minute and I think I can smell the fish burning!"

In only a matter of seconds, he could see his daughter stumbling as quickly as her clumsy legs would allow down the staircase before disappearing around the corner, yelling "_Shoot_!" There was the frantic sound of clattering kitchen utensils as Bella seemed to have knocked down the container while reaching for the spatula. He walked back in time to see her with a triumphant smile on her face as she declared, "They're saved, no worries." Her brow, as pale as his own, wrinkled and she looked at him with confusion. "Who's going to be here any minute?"

Charlie let out an exasperated sigh that he didn't really mean and said for the third time that night, "Billy's coming over with Jacob to watch the game."

Bella nodded like she knew that all along and went back to rescuing the fish. Watching the way she'd sometimes look off in the distance and smile an odd, happy smile, Charlie thought he had a pretty good idea as to what was making her this distracted. It had worried him at first; he thought the silences and hours spent in her room were out of depression, but now he knew better. She was just in love; an observation he couldn't help but feel angry about. And after a little thinking, Charlie was embarrassed he hadn't figured it out earlier, though. Bella was always this way when she returned from the hospital, taking a day or two to get out of the daze she seemed to launch herself into every time. She had fallen asleep on the couch a week or two back, muttering like she always did. It had taken Charlie a while to understand the word she kept repeating, but he finally got it; Edward, as in the town doctor Edward.

At the time, he had only been shocked. His sweet and innocent daughter had joined one of the many that were chasing after Dr. Cullen. It wasn't that he had a problem with the guy – he was a citizen of good moral standing that had even given vital evidence in that murder investigation last year – but he was older and could take advantage of her. Charlie's only hope was that Bella's school-girl crush would fade. Still, he had seen the look on Dr. Cullen's face too, when he had come to pick up Bella once, and thought he saw the same feelings she had reflected in Edward's eyes. He supposed he could jump that hurdle when he came to it, and, until then, keep a sharp eye.

The doorbell broke him out of his thoughts. He gave one final glance back at Bella, who seemed aware of the real world enough to serve the fish on plates and arrange them in aesthetically pleasing ways, and went to answer the door. Billy was there, with Jacob standing at the side of his wheelchair. "You're just in time, guys. The game's on in about five minutes."

Jacob wheeled his father over the threshold with some effort, cursing slightly under his breath, and settled him in a spot with a good view of the television before sitting down on the couch himself. Charlie took the chair and went through the strenuous operation of getting the volume just right.

With perfect timing, Bella stepped out of the kitchen, carrying a large tray with their meals on them, handing them to all the boys before disappearing once more to get drinks. "Hey, Bells?" Billy called. "Which one of your catastrophes gave you that bandage on your arm?" He gave Charlie a sly smile of good humor and added a "Well?" to hurry Bella's hesitation.

She reappeared, blushing furiously at his teasing, and handed him his beer. "I fell down the stairs and sprained my wrist," she said shyly. "I wouldn't wear this stupid bandage, but Dr. Cullen said-"

"Dr. _Cullen_?" Billy cut off, looking at Charlie with something like betrayal. "You let her go to that- that _monster_?"

In a sudden bark of commanding anger, Charlie snapped, "He's a good man, Billy, and you'd do best to hold your tongue about him in my house." He sneaked a look at the startled and confused Bella, who had no idea of what to say, and they both understood what his defense of the doctor had meant. Bella now knew that her father knew of the growing infatuation she had for Edward. Suddenly, what little color she had drained from her face and she felt the need to dive behind the couch and hide from Billy and Jacob's questioning looks.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I forgot about our other argument," Billy said gruffly, looking like he didn't mean what he said, but desperately wanting to resolve the issue. Charlie nodded, and, just like that, their fight was over and the game started, leaving them in a comfortable silence.

Bella, on the other hand, was unaware of Jacob's attempts at trying to talk to her for her mind was focused on the questions Billy's comment had caused. _Why_ did he think of Edward as a monster? Is it over poor medical practice, though she highly doubted that the genius Dr. Cullen could do wrong, or is it personal? She felt her breathing grow quicker and shallower as the inquisitive want dug deeper into her brain. She felt she was on her way to a conclusion before-

_Crash!_ The tree in their front yard shook and she thought she could hear a branch snap. "What was that?" Bella asked in shock.

"Don't worry about it, Bells," said her father as he turned back to the game. "It was probably just an animal or something."

000

The change of scene was more disorienting than the others, and Edward blinked in shock to find himself perched in a tree, away from the mid-afternoon thunderstorm and in a clear-skied night. Oddly, and probably because of James's warped sense of humor, he was still sopping wet. Edward heard a rustle of sound from behind him and turned to see the devil himself behind him on a different branch.

Before Edward could start on a wonderfully worded and inquisitive examination of why he was here as well, James put a slim finger to his lips and then pointed behind his dripping client. Edward turned to see the Swan residence, laid out in a perfect position for them to see into the brilliantly lit family room. Curiosity overtook his annoyed and confused mind as he recognized the people in the room. There was Chief Swan, two members of the Quileute tribe, and, looking ever more lovely and alive than he thought his poor heart could take, was Bella.

It was a normal scene in front of them, like they had landed front row seats to the taping of some TV series. Charlie and the older man in the wheel chair, who Edward found out was named Billy Black, argued happily about the two competing teams and who would win. On the sofa, Billy's son, Jacob, was chatting in an animated fashion with Edward's dear Bella. She laughed her delightful laugh and thoroughly enchanted the boy until his mind couldn't wrap around any other thought than how amazing the girl in front of him was.

With some chagrin, Edward noticed the small beginnings of a very green kind of jealously rise within him. The boy, he noted with gritted teeth, was able to speak and converse with Bella in perfect ease, no secrets, no holding back. Edward pushed it away, trying to keep his face an immobile mask of calm, but James noticed his struggle in the dark night with satisfaction. His red eyes glittered with amusement and his swift (much too swift for any other being, except _Him,_ of course, to comprehend) was thirty steps ahead the poor, unsuspecting Edward.

"What is the boy's…" he tried to phrase it as innocently as he could but failed miserably, "_relationship_ with Bella?"

"Well, they are very close," replied James in his most helpful voice, though the insane smile he had on pulled back his lips, displaying more of his oddly sharp teeth. If Edward had seen the look on his face, he would have dismissed anything he said, but his vision was tinged green, making everything obsolete. "_Very_ close."

Edward's mind panicked. Was he pushing Bella away from someone she truly wanted to be with? He knew for sure that Jacob cared deeply for Bella, but, with his lack of insight to her mind, how could he know if she craved his company in the same way? Everything was muddled and confused for Edward; his wish seemed snatched away, his angel in the arms of another. And, no matter how loud his heart yelled in protest, his brain continued to tell him that if they were indeed together it was much safer for Bella to be with the boy, not him.

As if to both underline this terrifying thought and offer a small window of hope, Charlie glanced over at the pair, his thoughts warm with hope. _Look at them,_ he thought. _They'd be perfect for each other_. _If only Bella could get her head out of the clouds and see that._ It was short, the commercial had ended and the game was back on with all its distracting glory for Charlie, but it told Edward that Bella wasn't committed to the boy. All he had to do was convince her, someway, somehow, that she belonged with him.

After all the mind-wearying, heart-destroying things that had happened after he had met James, Edward had thrown his caution to the wind, desperation and a sort of mad need filling the hole it had left with disturbing ease. Edward was teetering between his long-built morals and the new, scary certainty that if he wasn't able to have Bella, his life would be plunged into a darkness he would never find his way out of.

He crouched motionless on the branch for hours after, waiting and watching and slowly drying and going over the options in his thoughts slowly. Eventually, the game ended and Billy and his son left. Then Bella bid her father goodnight and made her tired way up the stairs. She was already in sweats and a tank top, so collapsing onto her bed was much more comfortable than her waking mind would have suspected. In no time, she was in deep sleep, mumbling and slurring words like any other night. But, unlike every other night, she would soon have visitors.

Edward had never been in her house, dropped her off, yes, driven by on his way to work, yes, but never _inside_, and the concentrated smell made him feel rather dizzy as it caught him off his guard. He was unhappy to notice James follow in through the window behind him, but he pretended not to notice. With an expression of combined heartbreak, worry, and love, Edward reached out his marble hand and brushed the sleeping Bella across the cheek, feeling the warmth and vitilaty of it. "Are we ever meant to be together?" he asked himself quietly, though James was the one who answered.

"Only God knows," was his wry response.

"I suppose he does," Edward whispered absentmindedly, still focusing on her soft as silk skin. "But I don't think my association with you would help me get on his good side. I guess I'm in Heaven's bad books; if there are any, that is. Perhaps they'd just call them the 'Misled Books'…" He tapered off, not knowing what he was babbling about.

He pulled his hand back and only stared at Bella, taking in the beauty. At the loss of his touch, she turned in her sleep, taking a deep breath and sighing out, "Jacob." It was faint, but it tore at Edward's heart and pushed his debating mind brutally forward.

He turned to James, fire in his eyes, and rapidly tried to say the right words in a voice low enough that she wouldn't wake up. "I wish that she and I were alone together. Not the only people left on Earth, mind you," he added when he saw a smile creep across the devil's face. "I just want it to be us with nobody around for a while. We can talk, uninterrupted, and I can tell her everything." He thought for a moment before throwing in, "and she'd actually stay and hear it through," for good measure. "I want it to be _my _Bella, right _there_," he pointed toward the unconscious girl. "Not some freak show version."

"Anything else?" asked a slightly irritated looking James.

"Oh, yes. I want to be fully fed, as well."

"Well, Edward," James began as he pushed himself off where he had been leaning against the wall, "that was very well thought out. I applaud you. _Really_." His face was sincere, but his voice held a taunting edge that Edward was mistrusting. What was he hiding? But, there was no time to second guess; James snapped his fingers, and the familiar blackness awaited.

_Had he done the right thing?_

000

When they faded from her room, the still sleeping Bella rolled over in her slumber. She took a deep breath, her subconscious recognizing a lingering scent that hung in the air, reminding her of a bright, happy thing she was unable to make the connection to. Then, her dreams finally caught on and switched from one of nonsense (her and Jacob driving through the ocean as he asked her out and said that if she didn't date him, he'd through her to the Mike-shaped sharks underneath them) to a white hospital room with an angel holding her hands in his, smiling like this was the happiest moment in his life.

With a matching smile, Bella whispered the words, "I love you Edward," too late for anyone to hear.

Too late to make a difference to what had already happening.


	6. A Bitter Abrogation

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own **_**Twilight**_**, but, perhaps, I could make a certain deal for its ownership…**

* * *

A Bitter Abrogation

Everything outside the heated silver Volvo was dissolved into a tundra of white snow. The windshield wipers worked furiously to clear away the ice that was starting to block Edward's view of the road as it disappeared under a blanket of snow. Even with his developed senses, he found it difficult to navigate his beloved car in the snow globe Forks had become.

In entering this wish, Edward knew that he was driving to his job. Though he had been drenched in a tree on a Wednesday night just a few moments ago, it was now Thursday morning, and he was dressed in his white coat, ready to go to work. He didn't bother to figure out how this would get him and Bella alone, and frankly, he didn't want to. This was really the first time that Edward felt absolutely certain that things would finally turn out well for him and Bella. Or, he hoped.

In the frozen pallor ahead of him, Edward could see a dark object on the horizon. Pressing the gas pedal down further, he could soon see it take form. The quickly approaching thing on the side of the road was a red truck. From the tracks, which were now being covered by the falling flurry, it seemed as though the car had hit a patch of ice and slid off the road.

The image of the immobile car on the side of the empty street reminded Edward heavily of his third wish, a memory represented by cruelly slashed tires and an unsuspecting Bella…

He shook the thought from his head and pulled over behind the truck, satisfied by the fact that the itch in the back of his throat was practically nonexistent. It would be different this time. _He_ would be different. Though he had no right, you know, with selling his soul to the devil and all, he sent a swift prayer up to Him, asking for a little cosmic help.

Edward took a deep breath, smelling her undeniable fragrance in the air, to calm his jittery nerves, and stepped out of his car, drawing his winter coat around him in a long ingrained, and completely fake, reaction to the weather. The snow was already up to Edward's shins and by the look of the oppressive clouds overhead, it was only going to get worse.

From the cab of the truck, he could see movement and, gathering his will power for a little bit of courage, he rapped his knuckles on the frosted window twice. He heard a squeal of surprise, then the grunting of the window as it was labored open. "Miss Swan," Edward said, wishing he could call her Bella and have it not be presumptuous, "what happened here?"

"Uh," was her very informative reply. She was shocked to see him here. And, for some reason she didn't quite understand, this situation felt like...déjàvu, only altered. The idea was silly, but the useless car, the lonely road, and the sudden appearance of Edward seemed to form a story she'd read before, but forgotten over time. She pushed it to the back of her mind and managed to snap her jaw shut, wishing she could make it through one meeting with Edward and not feel like a total idiot. "Hello, Doctor Cullen, it's good to see you here, especially under my newly desperate circumstances. I think there was some ice back there because one minute I was driving to school and the next I was submerged in this." She shrugged her shoulders in a sign of resignation and looked back into Edward's light gold eyes, admiring how much brighter they looked in the snowy setting.

"Then, I insist that I become your chauffer," he said with a sweetly sincere smile. "I do enjoy saving damsels in distress when the time arrives." Without another word, Edward opened the door and held his arms open invitingly. Bella gave him a confused look and he elaborated, "The snow is quite deep here and your shoes don't look thick enough to stand up against it. If you don't mind, it would be better if I carried you to my car."

Bella blushed, as the idea of being held in her idol's arms finally registered. _No_, she thought_, the déjà vu is just nonsense. _That_ had a different Edward, but _this_ is my Edward, if I can even think of him that way._ She turned the car off and tucked the keys in her coat pocket with care before she let him pick her up. She tucked her head under his neck to hide the ridiculous grin that had erupted across her face.

The warmth, something Edward thought that, even with perfect memory, he would never get used to, spread through his arms and chest and he pulled her closer, drinking it in. When it came time to set her down in the passenger seat, a deadline he had fought desperately against by pretending to have trouble navigating through the snow, he bit back a sigh and hurried a little bit too quickly to get to the driver's side.

"Thank you, Doctor. I don't know what I would have down if you hadn't come along." Bella settled down into the comfortable leather seats and rubbed her cold hands together in front of a heater. "I'm sorry if it inconveniences you in any way."

"Not at all, Miss Swan. I was, in fact, hoping to run into you." Bella's eyes grew wide and she waited for what would come out of his pale lips next. She told herself that it could be common, totally innocent, but her heart couldn't be stopped with its wild hope. Edward, himself, was in the middle of a mental pep talk. _Say it, _he screamed to his brain. _Say, "Bella, I want to tell you that you are the most amazing woman I have ever met and I love you." It's true, so why can't you say it?_ But shyness and the fear of rejection reared their ugly heads and before anything else could be done, Edward was saying, "Uh-I wanted to see how your wrist was doing."

Both were disappointed and unable to hide it.

"Oh, it's, uh, doing fine. It doesn't hurt anymore." Bella, unable to stop the frustration with herself from marring her face, looked down at the offending wrist and let a curtain of her hair shield her from Edward.

An awkward silence ensued. Neither of them had any topic to discuss or any question to ask. Edward's grip just grew tighter on the steering wheel, Bella's blush grew deeper, and the layers of snow piled higher. One would think that this quiet would last forever, had it not been for the guttural rumble of the Volvo's tires loosing traction in the too high snow and the surprising sound of something releasing before the car plummeted backwards down the hill they had been at the top of. With another jerk the car stopped, and the snow was already forming a veil over the windows of the car, leaving only speckles of light to see by.

"Ed- Doctor Cullen?" Bella whispered with a shrill note of panic. "Doctor Cullen, are you okay?" She raised one of her hands briefly to the windshield, which was now completely covered with snow, and marveled over the frightening rapidity with which it was falling.

"I'm just fine, Miss Swan. How about you?" He reached out with his cold hand and placed it on Bella's cheek. "Did you hit your head?" Though he could see perfectly in the dim light, he couldn't resist from asking, and knowing if there was anything he could do to help even the smallest pain. "I'm sorry; I should have realized a plow hadn't been through and the-"

"No," Bella interrupted, "the snow came down so quickly, there's no way you could have known. Besides," she said, trying to insert some humor into the bleak situation, "you lasted longer than I did." It didn't work. She placed her hand over Edward's, which was now soothingly brushing her hair away from her face. "You know, since we are in this rather unique circumstance, I think we ought to at least call each other by our first names…Edward."

"That sounds great, Bella." He felt a smile tug at the sides of his mouth and at least one aspect of this was looking up. The name rolled off his tongue in a way that made it sound like pure music.

Bella was glad for the darkness, or at least thought she was since he could see everything as clearly as in daylight, when she blushed crimson. She noticed that against her hot skin, Edward's hand was still as cold as ever. It should have warmed up by now, and that worried Bella. "Edward, are you feeling fine? Your skin is freezing…"

Edward, realizing his stupid mistake, whipped his hands away and put them against the heaters. "I forgot my gloves at home," he lied rather uneasily. He started to rub his hands together like he was trying to produce heat when he noticed something. "The heating isn't working." Edward tried fiddling with the knobs but gave up in a matter of seconds before turning to Bella with troubled eyes; her breath was showing.

"M-maybe," she managed to say between chattering teeth, "we ought to share body heat, like they say to do in survival movies." She blushed at even the thought of it and her eyes wondered down on their own accord to his torso, where, even underneath his button down shirt, she could see the muscles. Bella forced her eyes to look up at his face and stammered on, "It's just that, you're so cold and I'm afraid that it'll only get _worse_ if nothing is done…" She really did mean it too, despite the so tempting physical aspects, she was genuinely worried about his state of being.

Edward saw that too, in her eyes; the concern with the underlying lust he would have only been too happy to return. But he couldn't. What she suggested would only make the conditions more calamitous for Bella; the cold of his skin could make her susceptible to any number of nasty germs and sicknesses.

Now, though, he was caught between telling the awful truth of his kind and lying. Walking a very thin line, he started off, "Bella feel my hand again," he held it out and she took it in his. "It's still cold, no matter how much heat is applied. I have a… _condition_, of sorts. The weather doesn't really affect me." Edward shook off his heavy winter jacket and placed it around Bella's shoulders, so that she was now wearing two jackets and whatever sweater she had on underneath. "It'll do you more good than it does me."

Bella looked long and hard at Edward, sitting there in only a plain shirt and his thin doctor's jacket like it was completely ordinary and very comfortable in the frigid climate. Had it not been for the utterly earnest look in his golden eyes, she doubted she would have believed him. It was another thing to add to the list of his abnormalities, then. "You're different than everyone else, aren't you Edward?"

Grinning crookedly, he nodded his head and said, "I guess you can say that."

Curiosity was taking over Bella and she leaned over to Edward's seat, placing her hand on his chest, feeling the rock-like cold that she had always thought was a side-effect of being a doctor, a funny joke between them, not a physical way of knowing how different he was. She thought back to what Billy had said last night, about Edward being a monster and puzzled over it for a few moments. "What else makes you different then?"

Again, not wanting to lie, Edward ominously replied, "A lot of things, Bella." He tried to look out the window, but it, and every other one, was now covered with snow. Edward could still hear it though, falling gently on the car with a hasty pace. He snuck a glance to Bella and, though his coat seemed to make her more comfortable, her skin had taken on a blue tinge that threw up alarms in his mind.

"I think," he started, "that we need to get out of here somehow." Edward experimentally tried to open the door, but the snow was so high that it was jammed shut. He cursed under his breath and went through a mental list of ways to get out of this. Maybe if he-

A ringing erupted from his pocket, startling both trapped occupants of the Volvo. Edward deftly extricated it from his pants pocket and saw Alice's name flash in bold on the screen. Before he could even greet her, she said, "Don't."

Confusion covered Edward's expression and Bella's by extension. "Don't what?"

"Don't," she repeated, with an odd mixture of annoyance and foreboding, "break the window then burrow up through the snow, leaving Bella in the car so you can go find help at the hospital or call in an emergency chopper. She'll get desperately sick from exposure." She paused for a moment, happy that she had at least made it in time to tell him before continuing. "I've been trying to watch you two since our last call, but I think… _he's_ blocking me out somehow."

"That's because he is." Edward met Bella's questioning glance and mouthed 'my sister' to her. "What if I take Bella with me?" Not at all getting the meaning of Edward's one-sided conversation, Bella tried to distract herself by looking out the window but was only met by the murky grey of shadowed snow.

There was a pause as Alice flipped through future choices before she answered, "It depends on whether you go human speed or vampire speed. At human, it will take too long and she'll still die of exposure, but at vampire, you'll be able to safely make it to the hospital and she'll only have a bad bout of the flu."

"That's great Alice!" Edward grinned broadly at Bella, not even thinking about sharing his secret with her, and said, "We'll be able to get out safely!"

"No, Edward!" Alice interjected. "It's not like that. I'm watching the news from Seattle and…it's really bad. The storm is so focused in just that one area that all we're getting over here are flurries. They are getting reports that people are _dying _over there. It's like _Storm of the Century_, just as Stephen King wrote it."

"But Bella will be safe, Alice. That's all that matters." Edward tried to pay attention to the thoughts in the town, but all he got were half-conscious minds that were slow with the cold. From what he heard, all the electricity was out, the students who had made it to school were trapped and people were unable to communicate to each other. _But_, he thought to himself, _I can help some of them after Bella. She's the important one here._

"You don't understand, Edward," Alice growled suddenly. "They are _dying_ because of your self-centered wish! How can you possibly justify that? Those people are her neighbors, friends, and _family_! Even _you _wouldn't do that to her!"

Bella had heard the words "dying" explode out of the earpiece among the crazy assortment of fast talking she couldn't understand and her head jerked around to look at Edward. She found him staring right back, a torn expression on his face as he asked, "What do I do then, Alice?"

And in the silence that followed, Bella could hear the words "End it" ring through the car with such demanding surety she would have obeyed instantly if she knew what it meant. Edward hung up the phone, not breaking eye contact with Bella as he hesitantly leaned in his eyes shining in the darkness like a golden fire.

Out of nowhere, he sighed with a sadness she couldn't understand. Hadn't he just said that they would make it out of here? Why, then, did it look like he was parting with a treasured companion. And, it occurred to her, that he _was_, no matter how odd that seemed in the circumstances. His full lips parted and, as unexpected as the sigh, he whispered, "I love you, Bella. I only wish you knew how much." Then, Edward kissed her still warm cheek and the last thing Bella heard was a snap of fingers.

000

"Oh," James tittered from Edward's plush office chair, "that was awfully romantic of you there." He slung his legs up on top of the desk and gave Edward a smile. Behind him, the window that looked over the parking lot showed that it wasn't even snowing. "So, why did you stop?"

Feeling a familiar anger rise amid the confusion, sadness, and strong sense of loss within him, Edward shot out of the little chair and stormed around his office at the hospital, where this mess had all started. "Why must everything be ruined? Every good thing turned sour? Every pure soul twisted and bent to nothing but sin?" he bitterly asked. "And _why_ did I agree to put my life in the hands of a man who is the cause of it all?" Edward swiped the carefully arranged papers off his desk and pounded his fists on it so hard there were holes. "Can you give me a good answer for _that_ one, James?"

James sidestepped that entirely and smiled sympathetically at his poor little client. "You almost had her that time, Eddie. Don't despair! Have you already forgotten how wonderful she was, and how beautiful she looked, when you were together in the car? You even told her you loved her! If only you would have stayed a bit longer-"

"Why?" cried Edward. "So you could have her die in a fire? Be poisoned? Be eaten by a plague of _locusts_? How many more times must I see her get hurt? I want to protect her from everything_ you_ represent! I just wish that she were here for me to look after-" realization dawned on Edward's face as James looked like he was about to pat his own back in congratulations. "No!" he tried to correct. "That doesn't count! I take it back!"

James held his hand up threateningly, poised for an action that Edward prayed would never take place. "When," he asked with a toothy smile, his red eyes shining in unrestrained delight, "has that ever stopped me before?" And, _snap_, it was done.

Edward turned around in horror as a knock on the door signaled the entrance of an intern, out of breath and flooded with thoughts of blood. "Doctor Cullen! You have to come quickly," he gasped before rushing out again. "Bella Swan is horribly injured!"

* * *

**Dun dun dun...**


	7. The Final Wish

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own **_**Twilight**_**, but, perhaps, I could make a certain deal for its ownership…**

* * *

The Final Wish

"Let me guess," Edward growled as helplessness filled him. He turned toward James with a look similar to an animal backed into a corner and ready to tear apart the person who trapped them there. "She was in a _car accident_?"

James clapped his hands sarcastically. "Well, I'd thought you'd have caught on earlier than this. There were a total of three breakdowns, one sabotage, and two fatal crashes. I thought that this time, I ought to shoot for a _theme_."

"That's what my life is, then?" Edward managed to yell in a subdued voice, hoping to draw no attention, as he followed the horrified thoughts of the staff and that wonderfully awful smell of such familiar blood. "A _game_ for you to screw up and peddle off as a drive safe commercial for later?"

"No," the devil soothed as he tagged along beside Edward at a graceful lope, "I would _never_ think of this as a game Edward. If you must know, I was trying to enforce a lesson in you. Something like: 'The future is inevitable, and anything you do to try and change it will only lead down the same, dismal path.'" He smiled winningly and turned to Edward with a proud smirk on his face, "Quite catchy, isn't it?"

Considering that he had nothing to say to that, Edward remained silent. Near the room where she must have been, he pulled aside a nurse who appeared to be running away to find a place suitable for throwing up. "Tell me what happened," Edward's velvet voice was as monotone as it could be and his eyes wide with the disbelief of what he saw through other people's eyes.

"Doctor Cullen?" Nurse Grace hesitated. "What's wrong with you?" She hadn't meant to say it so bluntly, but he looked as though he had seen a ghost; if it was possible, he was paler than ever and the closer they got to the hospital room where the patient was, the odder his expression became. He looked like a man who couldn't decide between continuing forward or fleeing away, knowing that one was just as bad as the other.

All Doctor Cullen did was look at her with that haunted expression and Grace manually went into the list of problems, hoping beyond hope that with more knowledge he'd lose that look. "Isabella Swan was driving when she hit something. We don't know what it was; it must have been big though, by the size of the dent in the front of her car. She wasn't wearing a seat belt and came crashing through the windshield. She's severally cut and bruised, has broken several bones, and her spine is broken. We think that a nerve was snapped and she will not be able to walk again." Doctor Cullen's jaw clenched, a strangled sound came from his chest and the nurse was suspicious as to whether he had blinked at all while she spoke. "She's not going to make it…" Grace blurted out before backing away from the doctor with pity; she'd seen the way he had looked at that girl, like they were in love.

A solid oak door with a covered window loomed in Edward's sight, seeming to fill the world. He couldn't find it in him to turn the knob, and he definitely couldn't turn away, so there he stood, undecided. Through it, he could hear the frantic orders of Doctor Henderson as she tried to stop the motionless figure on the bed from losing anymore blood. James moved from Edward's side and, with menacing slowness, opened the door.

As if propelled by feet that weren't his own, Edward glided forward into the crowded room, consumed with the desperate feeling of knowing that anything he did will amount to nothing of importance. At hearing him enter, the busy staff took one look at his painfully terrified face as he collapsed down in the chair in the corner and looked hurriedly away again. They had never seen smooth, calm Doctor Cullen in that amount of pain before and, somehow, that made everything even worse.

No one noticed the man in the dark suit that followed the doctor and leaned on the wall beside him, looking at the hopeless scene play out in before him with as much pride as Michelangelo must have had as he stared up to the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. "You," he quietly said, catching Edward's attention so raptly that all the dreadful sounds that accompanied trying to save someone's life disappeared into a far away and muted distance, "could make this all go away Eddie." James gestured with a wave of his arm to the dying Bella, unconscious and as broken as a thrown away glass doll. "You only need to make a wish."

That simple phrase split and multiplied around his ears. And in none of the different repetitions did that sound like a trustworthy option.

Breathing seemed impossible, his mind rushed, and Edward knew that he had to get out of that slowly closing room. Without a word, he bolted through the open door, just controlling the urge to go his full speed, and into the parking lot, where there was fresh air and, hopefully, time to clear his rampant thoughts.

He felt surrounded by death; it hid behind every corner and lurked underneath false chances of happiness, waiting hungrily for the next catastrophe Edward would inevitably cause while it licked its blood red lips with agonizing patience. It was the creature always on the edge of his vision now, reaching out for the one thing that truly mattered, the light in the darkness his life had become, his Bella. "No," he rasped, not even aware that he was speaking out loud. His thoughts seemed too loud to stay in his mind; his head needed relief from their screaming reverberations. "It can't take her. I _need _her, and if it has its way, I'll have no other choice than to follow dutifully." _But what can I do until then? _the vestige of Practical Edward asked. "Nothing. I'll do nothing more that can harm her."

"No, Eddie," a surprisingly cold voice said from behind him, "you _have_ to do something; it's in the contract." Edward turned around to see James, standing as regally as any monarch ever deserved to, like he was before hordes of obeying and eager to please demons in the fires of Hell instead of a dingy parking lot in Forks. "You can't afford to do nothing."

"You think I can't stop wishing?" Edward challenged. "_Watch_. I quit, I'm done. The contract is annulled, void, finished, useless, whatever phrase you want to put on it." Edward stood his ground and eyed Satan firmly; knowing full and well that he had rebelled against the lines James wanted him to hopelessly mouth. It was the equivalent to jumping off the stage in the middle of a performance and walking out the door. Another wish, the final scene, was being put on hold as the actor realized he no longer wished to be a puppet whose strings were being pulled along by a demonic puppeteer.

In the stony silence, a change occurred, power shifted. Though it was impossible to gain access to the devil's mind, one could see a flicker, however brief it may be, of alarm on his face. His smile disappeared. It seemed that manipulation, a powerful thing in his arsenal for swaying alliances and motives, couldn't stand a chance against Edward's steely resolve. He would have to try a different approach.

"Eddie," he started in a warning tone, walking up to him and placing a pale hand on Edward's shoulder, "you forgot one…little…thing." In a lighting fast movement, more swiftly than Edward could follow, James threw him up into the air and sent him sailing to the other side of the parking lot. Edward landed with a crack, leaving a dent in the asphalt, and was shocked to feel immense pain blossom from the arm he'd landed on. Before he could get to his feet, James was there again, pulling him up by the shirt and dragging him only inches from his furious face. "The show must go on!" he yelled before throwing Edward once more to a far point of the parking lot.

This time the stinging discomfort focused on his ribs, causing Edward to emit a grunt from the pain. Again, James was there in a moment, holding him close to his face, which seemed to stretch across his bones now, anger turning it unfamiliar and strange. His eyes blazed like fire and he snarled, "Do you think that you are immune to corruption and bribery, Eddie? Everyone has a lever that, when pulled, will make them do _anything_. For some, it's greed, for others there's pride, but for _you_, Eddie," he drew out a pause as he tossed Edward up high into the air, where things melted and changed until he was landing on the recognizable tile of the hospital room, "it's Bella."

In the room, empty as every single staff member remembered they had somewhere more important to be instantaneously before they arrived, James stood at her bedside, a glowering expression of open malice on his face. That dazzling, pearl-white smile seemed like it had never existed on this new sneering face. "Look at her; so vulnerable, so easy to _hurt_." For no medical reason, Bella gasped in sudden pain, her heart rate accelerating from the shock. Edward got to his feet and leaned over Bella on the other side of the bed.

"What did you do to her?" Edward demanded, ready to kill him.

But James just stood by her like a silent sentinel; his face clouded with threatening indifference, the triumph of one who has the upper hand was only tinged about the set of his mouth and the raised chin. "Think of this as…_motivation_, Eddie. I have come to the conclusion that you seeing her in pain," again the unconscious Bella writhed, "forces you to make a decision. Make the wish, or she can die, just like _that_." Bella screamed louder, waking abruptly from the painless dreamland her mind had runaway to and jolted into this new body, filled with scorching fire and worrying numbness.

She heard a loud and dangerous growl before a blur jumped over her to a man she had never seen before. Bella was about to cry a warning, but the man moved with unnatural speed, seeming to catch the blur and throw it into the ground. In the place where the blur had hit the floor hard enough to make the tile fly out of place, she saw Edward, glaring at the black-haired man like he would want nothing more than to see him burst into flames. Bella tried to say his name, to ask him what is happening, but her throat felt like it was lined with knives, making speech incapable.

"Make a wish," the man commanded Edward, "or I will snap her like a twig." At once, Bella felt something consume her, plunging her body to state where everything stung and boiled and _hurt_ oh so badly she didn't think she could make it no, the pain was too much and if she had to last longer her brain just might explode with that terrible pressure-

"No!" yelled Edward, getting to his unsteady feet. "Let her be…_please_, leave her out of this…" He looked over to where Bella was no longer screaming, sighing with obvious relief. Edward stared at James, then, hoping to ease the red fire his eyes had turned into, said, "What will happen if I want her to be healed? Would she walk out of here and get ran over? Look at what has already happened from my meddling in her life! I don't have the right to make decisions for her any longer when it will only result in her dying. I can't make another wish…"

As soon as those words came out of his mouth, Bella was screaming again, louder than she had been earlier. With cruel understanding, Edward realized that the cracking sounds that were now filling the room were her bones breaking and crushing beyond repair. Slashes appeared in her scarred skin, new blood mingling with the dried that crusted around her body. All the while James stood there, watching it with satisfaction.

For Edward, the world spun and bent. He was half-mad with confusion, self-hatred, and anger. Edward clutched at his heart with desperation on his features; it felt like it was burning along with Bella. Indecision crippled his mind as he couldn't kill her by making a wish and he couldn't kill her by standing by and doing nothing. His jaw clenched, his knuckles cracked, and the words came rising from his chest with some inner certainty, some hope, of rightness. He pulled in a breath and finally said, "I wish that Bella knew about all these events; what I am, who you are, what she means to me and the lengths I have taken for her."

The shrieking subsided to a whimper, there was a snap, and James was no longer in the room.

Amid the terrible agony, Bella suddenly felt deft and certain hands feel her pulse and check the limbs she could no longer move. They felt like reassuring ice on her flaming body, making it easier to deal with the pain. Bella opened her eyes to see this person was, and wasn't in the least bit surprised when she saw Edward's face above hers, contorted with concentration.

At the familiar and loving sight of him, there seemed to be a spark in her mind. It didn't last long, but it illuminated blank spots and questions in her mind. It wasn't like reading a book or watching a movie, but more like _experiencing_ it in a way; some feelings and thoughts danced across her mind. It even showed her some things Edward didn't know; things he would have quite liked to, but it wasn't time, not yet…

Though it had colored all the events and conversations she now knew, the most important, and best, thing was saved for last: the overwhelming, unconditional, awe-inspiring, absolute love that Edward felt towards Bella, something that she returned fully and without even a thought of hesitation.

Now, everything seemed so clear, so _obvious_, that Bella felt like hitting herself on the head, if it wasn't for the inability to move her arms, that is. With effort that is only matched by single handedly moving an apartment building with your bare hands, Bella opened up her blood-soaked and broken jaw. The moment she did, more blood came dribbling out from between her lips. Edward noticed the movement and looked up to her eyes, cupping the side of her face in his hand.

_How silly we had been_, Bella thought, _both in love with one another, and neither able to say it._ She recognized the extra shimmer in his eye now, how lovingly he held her. It had been right in front her all along and she had never noticed the little things that meant so much. Remembering what she needed to say, Bella moved her mouth experimentally, wincing at the pain, and said, "Nan ghee." Seeing how this amounted to absolutely nothing, she tried again. In a slurred, unsteady voice, she said, "Edward, change me."

His eyes widened and his hand held her face a little more tightly, picturing the pain she'd be in with dread. Edward saw the complete earnestness in her blood-shot, chocolate brown eyes, and let it process through his mind, trying to poke holes in it so he could turn it down, but it remained ironclad. If she were to even survive as she was, she would be a vegetable, unable to move at all. Sense interfered with Edward's protective heart and nodded his head. He gave an uncertain smile and Bella returned it double fold.

Kissing her blood covered neck, Edward bit down and prayed for the best.

000

Nurse Grace was the first one to come out of the devil-induced distraction. She had been at her desk, asking herself how she could have gone so long without properly organizing her pens, when she remembered that Miss Swan was going unattended. She ran as fast as her stout legs could take her, bursting open the door… and screeched to a halt.

Doctor Cullen was sitting beside Miss Swan on a small chair, holding her scratched and delicate hands in his large pale ones. He had his eyes closed and was speaking in a quick, low voice; blending together apologies with promises with pledges. His face had lost some of the haunted look, but it was pinched and tight with worry. Every time Miss Swan would let out a whimper or groan of pain, he would bring her hands to his lips and kiss them gently. It seemed that knowing he was there calmed the girl and she would ease until the next wave of pain. At first, Grace thought that he didn't notice her entrance but, without opening his eyes, he broke from his rapid talking and said, "Hello, Nurse Grace."

"Oh, uh, hi, Doctor Cullen," her mouth automatically started. "How is she?"

His eyes opened, displaying golden eyes that were darker than Grace remembered, and looked down at Miss Swan. His face seemed crowded with different expressions, each screaming for dominance; there was sorrow, anxiety, concern, undeniable love, and, Grace didn't know which was more puzzling, the guilt or the relief. "She's not doing too well. She won't make it." The words were monotone, his face now stoic with pain, but Grace felt as though something was wrong about his words. It was like a well-known role played by a very talented actor, not the open and half-mad face of a man that saw no escape.

Grace pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind and felt deep compassion towards the young man. "If there's anything I can do, Doctor Cullen, just give the word."

He finally met her eyes, seeming to find something suddenly interesting about her features, and attempted at a smile. It was nothing more than a slight twitch of his lips, but she looked at it with a warm heart. "Thank you Grace." She turned to leave to the door but he called her name. "Grace? I don't think I'll be in employment here anymore. After this… it would never be the same. Would you mind spreading the word?" Grace nodded with understanding, leaving the room when he once again closed his eyes. _The poor boy_, she thought to herself_, losing someone he is obviously so in love with._

In the next two days, Doctor Cullen didn't leave that room. Grace, the only member of the staff that came within a ten foot radius of it, would bring up trays of food at all the proper times on her rounds, but each time she came with a new one, she would find the last untouched. He didn't sleep and he never let go of her hands in all the times she visited. The more time that passed, the more pain Miss Swan seemed to be in, and the darker his face grew with a kind of wild desperation. Doctor Cullen didn't talk now, he didn't need to; the silence was screaming with his pleas of her safety. Grace knew that if Miss Swan were to die, he would go insane.

In the evening of the second day, Grace came with Doctor Cullen's dinner. She would have taken the unmoved lunch from the table and left if it weren't for the heavy look on his young face. The purple bags underneath his eyes were darker than ever and it seemed unfair that someone as full of potential as him should be shot down by such sorrow. Hesitantly, Grace asked, "You should head home, Doctor Cullen, for some sleep." At seeing the look on his face, she quickly added, "Just for an hour or so. I can watch her while you are gone; I won't leave her for a second, I promise."

Edward surveyed her. Her mind seemed innocent enough, she only worried for his well being, but on some deep, instinctual level she seemed to suspect something. He really didn't want to leave Bella, but he _did_ need to gather supplies, like her clothes, books, and other personal items. Edward could stop by his house for luggage, get her belongings, and then come back here. She had only said an hour… "That's a good idea, Grace."

She watched as he bent down, kissed the girl's cheek, and murmured something in her ear before walking out the door, not even disguising the nervous glances he kept throwing over his shoulder.

When he was gone, Nurse Grace took the chair that he left, surprised by the icy coldness of it, and looked at Isabella. She seemed worse than she was before, not able to contain the cries of pain without her love's comforting presence. Grace reassured her as best as she could, but hoped Edward would return soon.

000

Upon entering his house, Edward could hear the jazz melody floating through the air to the entrance hall. As with occasions where you have no idea on how to proceed, Edward went on to the living room anyways.

"Hello, James," he said as casually as he could muster, which was, with the years of faking emotions under his belt, _very_ casual. "I hope you are here to shed some light on the many mysteries you have left in your wake. Either that, or you've just come to steal my record."

James was sitting in the chair, his feet propped up by the mound of suitcases that made up Edward's luggage. "Intentionally the former, but I find myself more and more tempted by the latter. Hello there, Eddie. How fares the sweet Bella?" In no way did this question contain any cruelty; he seemed genuinely concerned about her well being.

"She is in the final stages of her transformation as we speak. I see that you have anticipated my arrival for the luggage. Would you mind if we ask the question on the road? I have to get Bella's things."

James dragged his feet to the ground with gracefulness that one would never think available while in the act of dragging oneself and opened the top for Edward to inspect. It was filled with books and, after Edward went through them, clothes with photographs and little trinkets in the other two bags. "There is no need for that," announced James smoothly. "I thought this would give us more time to talk of the general important things that should be spoken of. Fire away."

Edward pulled out a question that had been swimming in his skeptic mind. "Why is this wish turning out, sort of, _right_? What I mean is that, usually by now, everything would be falling apart, but her progress is perfectly normal."

"Skip," James said shortly as he restacked the trunks for a more ambitious footstool.

"But-"

"_Skip_."

"Okay. Uh," he now found himself unable to stop from asking something that had been plaguing his mind in the long hours of Bella's transformation, "_Will_ things be fine now? Am I just lulling myself into some pretentious wonderland where I think everything will end stupendously when it's really going down the tubes?"

James leaned back and thought for a few moments before answering, "Skip."

Edward was getting angry now. "Look, you said you'd _answer_ the questions, not pick and choose-"

"It is an extended part of your first question," explained James with a tiresome note in his voice, "so it will be held off until the end of this little session. Now, why don't you start with small questions and work your way up?"

Edward started pacing, his default action for when his mind was otherwise occupied, in a slow circle about the room. "Well, how about this: what hit Bella's car as she was coming to see me? They said there was no animal body, not even blood."

James smiled smugly. "That, my dear Eddie, was none other than Sam Uley in his wolf form. He, uh," a devious glint formed in his face as his voice remained innocent, "found himself momentarily deaf for a few seconds, so he hadn't heard the car approach. He broke two ribs and fractured his skull, but by the speed that those guys heal, he is as right as rain now." He looked over at Edward, who was trying desperately, and failing, to keep a straight face. "I knew that'd make you feel better."

Satisfied with at least one answered question, Edward picked another one. "Why haven't Bella's parents been notified? There has been no word from them this whole time even though half the town knows all about it." He couldn't keep some bitterness out of his voice at that last bit; Nurse Grace may be a sweet old soul, but her mind for gossip rivaled even those of Mrs. Stanley.

Growing bored with footstool, which was already grander than the most hopeful of footstools made of luggage had ever dreamed to be, James made his way across the room and went through the drawers of the desk, which were heaped with anything from illegal birth certificates to land deeds to letters. "With the bad luck of most parents," he said as he observed an example of Esme's wonderful penmanship, "they have been mysteriously inconvenienced while their daughter was in need. Charlie somehow felt it necessary to go on a week long fishing trip with no way to contact him and Renee was traveling with her husband Phil and forgot her cell phone at home. Of course, they will both come home to find the awful truth, rush to the hospital, where Nurse Grace will feel as though she must insist that they ought to have a closed casket funeral because their daughter was so severely damaged in the crash that it would be better to think of her as she was. Nurse Grace, or course, will think that the large body bag filled with sand in the morgue is actually the body of Miss Swan when she puts it in the coffin."

He went along with rifling through the drawers, but Edward had frozen in place, staring at James with amazement and gratitude he couldn't even express. In a dazed voice, he asked, "Why did you pick me?"

Looking up from the papers for a moment, James sighed. "I have already told you this, Eddie. I took an interest in you and wanted nothing more than to help. Maybe _now_, out of that mind-clouding anger you felt toward me will give way to see the logic behind all this. It was rather an elegant plan, if I do say so myself." He looked off into space for a moment, going over it all in his mind, and smiled wryly. "Granted, nobody really learned a lesson and there are no character traits that have, for better or worse, changed in the slightest, but it was more elegant than most moral and educational plans are."

James's rambling justification, if it could even be called that, went right over Edward's head and he felt the need to ask once more. "But that doesn't answer my question. Why give this to me, not Mike Newton or someone else?"

"Perhaps I thought I should give a pessimistic vampire the life he always should have had, maybe I wanted to do something _good_ for once, or quite possibly I just wanted to ensure that Mike Newton is now, almost certainly, going to marry Jessica Stanley, have a whole lot of brats that will make them miserable, and go through the rest of his life with a substance abuse problem so that he will one day be _mine_. Who knows except me, and I'd like to keep my own counsel, thank you very much."

Edward tried to wrap his head around it. Sadly, a vampire cannot think as the devil can, so he gave up and sat down on the sofa. "So… you were out to help me from the start?"

"Yes," James congratulated, like a teacher who was particularly proud of a student who just got a difficult equation correct.

Brow wrinkling, Edward then said, "But you now have my soul, damning me to an eternity of Hell."

Putting down a paper that showed the cost of maintenance for a lavish estate in Europe, James wandered over to the bookshelves and browsed through them while speaking in a low and musing voice. "That is all a matter of opinion, Eddie. When we made the deal, you did not believe that you had a soul, so do I _really_ have the right to take what you thought didn't exist? I think it would be unfair to take advantage of an ignorant skeptic, something I rarely do," he smiled over his shoulder at Edward with pure deviousness, "_much_. What it really comes down to, like so many other things, is belief. To my count, you have three options: one, you think that you can't lose what you never had, two, you realize that you had a soul all along but squandered it away to me, or three, you _believe_ that you never truly had your soul before you had Bella and that goes outside the contract. Or," he shrugged, "some other romantic garbage of that sort. It's never really up to me where you end up, it's when you believe that you're going to Hell that you truly do."

"I don't know how to thank you, James," Edward marveled.

"Good. Don't. I have a reputation to uphold, and a vampire making grand gestures of gratitude can ruin it faster than you think. However," he eyed the record player, "an original jazz record would be just enough to even the playing field, don't you think? I have the CD, but it's just not the same."

Still dazed by the overload of information and the easy price of a record that he had a duplicate of, Edward could only faintly say, "Take it, of course."

Looking like a kid on Christmas, James slipped the record in the case and, how Edward will never know, tucked it in his jacket; leaving no bump or any sign at all that he had a large flat object at all. He looked to Edward with something like friendship in his eyes, but, maybe that's an exaggeration; it could have just as easily been the result of an upset stomach. "By my watch," he held up an expensive looking golden timepiece that had intricate writing instead of numbers and a total of nine hands, "Bella's change is due to be over in only a few minutes. I suggest you run."

When Edward had gone, speeding out carrying all three suitcases in his arms and only leaving behind the squeal of tires moving at an incredible speed, James smiled. As the Prince of Lies, his ability to weave senseless stories even fooled _him_ at times, but no, James didn't think he had lied this time.

Whistling a tuneless song, James brushed the unseen dust from his impeccable suit, straightened his tie, and snapped his fingers, disappearing from Forks to his next destination, feeling rather proud of himself.

They deserved all the sickening happiness that was on their way.

000

"We're almost there, love," Edward whispered almost soundlessly in Bella's ear. For pretending to be a dead person on a gurney who, while being carted to the morgue, has to resist the urge to drain the passing nurses of all their blood, Bella was doing surprisingly well. She was so still that she even looked dead, with her pale skin and nonexistent heartbeat. It made it easier to keep his expression, which would have made anyone cry at seeing how desolate and heartbroken he looked, on his face.

When he had gotten back to the hospital, he'd hidden the bags in the morgue, which was unoccupied due to Forks's low death toll, and, as he checked to make sure the door was locked, Edward urged Bella to change quickly from the hospital gown into suitable clothes.

She looked over at his back while she finished buttoning her blouse, amazed by everything around her; the colors, the sounds, the movements, and, most of all, Edward, who was more beautiful now than she had ever thought possible. "Where are we going to go?" she asked, not believing that the clear, bell-like voice was actually hers.

Edward turned to face her and took one of her hands in his, content to just stay there forever with her. "To my family in Seattle, then probably we will all go to one of our other homes."

"Your family?" Bella bit her lips, remembering what little he had said about his adopted family from before. "Do you think they will…like me?" Fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve she worried about how they would see her, an outsider who they had never met before.

He cradled her face and brought it closely to his, their foreheads touching, and looked into her eyes. "They will love because I love you, Bella."

The senses of sight and smell and touch seemed to blend together in his mere presence for Bella, but now, at this closeness, she felt positively…dazzled. How did she deserve someone this amazing, she wondered. "I love you too, Edward. I always have and always will." Slowly, she leaned in to capture his lips with her own, and, as he eagerly kissed back, she was sure her head would explode from the pleasure of it.

The lovers wrapped their arms around each other and both reveled in the feeling of fire ad ice, being utterly consumed by their want and need for the other. Their love shined around them, so strong it was practically tangible, giving everything a new light and understanding. They were in love, and they had forever to make the most of it.

And in that little morgue, a happy ending was born.


End file.
